


A Little Unsteady

by hollo



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Gen, Guilt, Mental Anguish, Mental Instability, Multi, Other, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-War, Recovery, Violence, coming to terms
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-05-20
Packaged: 2018-05-18 22:35:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 47,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5945839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollo/pseuds/hollo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What is his life's purpose, in the end?<br/>What is reason? What is sanity?<br/>What is it, to learn to live again in the aftermath of war? </p><p>-Kylo Ren POV and Centric - Post-War, contains: violence, blood, explorations of anxiety and mental instability as well as PTSD and guilt -</p><p>A story of <i>recovery</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There will probably be errors in this story. There will probably be things that don't fit quite right.  
> Forgive me if you find them.  
> I hope you do enjoy, however. Exploration of mentalities has really become something I enjoy. I hope you enjoy as well.

Darkness. 

For a moment he couldn’t quite grasp where he was or why it was so dark. The suddenness of it was distressing, and he reached out his senses reflexively, struggling to read his surroundings. 

The jolt of electricity at his wrists set his arms spasming, muscles contracting painfully. He gasped, then gritted his teeth against the static that rose at the forefront of his brain, clouding his connection to the Force and resonating within his skull at blackout-threatening levels of pain. It took long moments for the pain to recede, for the muscles in his arms to settle out of their cramps into fitful shudders. Breathing ragged, head aching, he flexed his fingers slowly to get them working. His wrists ached; the skin around them felt taut, overly raw, and it burned as he pushed himself up to sit.

He was on a cot. The mattress was thin and stiff, and the bed frame creaked beneath him as he shifted to put his bare feet on the floor. It was cold cement, and as the chill of it leeched up through his skin he remembered where he was.

Isolation.

Carefully he reached a hand out in front of him. His fingers touched steel wall before his arm had even begun to straighten. He ran his hand across the face of it, fingers catching on the countless dents and scratches that previous occupants had left. That he might have left.

How long had it been this time? Long enough for him to forget himself in the darkness. Long enough to forget why he was there. Why was he there? Had he lost his temper, and his control, again? Had he hurt someone? Did it matter?

He couldn’t get his head around it, couldn’t remember how long he’d been put in the dark, how long he had been in the prison before that, how many times he’d been in isolation since it all had started. Had it been months? Years? His brain refused to cooperate; the frequent shocks from the wrist restraints and the implant had muddled it. His thoughts refused to coalesce into anything meaningful.

That was what  _ they _ wanted. The thought was grim but not new; of course he was easier to control like this, fractured and disconnected. If they could have cut his faulty temper out of him they would have…

His hands shook as he touched his face, pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes until they burned, until they ached with a piercing quality. A welcome ache, one he’d created himself, a silent and pitiful attempt to prove to himself he still had some sense of control. 

The dark crowded him, and he was aware of the irony of it even as he began to shake in tiny, uncontrollable jerks. Once again the thought of sending his senses out touched on him, the need to know his surroundings, need to feel what was out there beyond the steel walls and door rising as the dark became stifling. He was almost willing to do it, to brave the shock and the pain. Almost.

Instead he resolved to count the seconds until the need, the distress, the shaking of his limbs and body overwhelmed him, as he had so many times before. Count, until it had reached a level of torment he could hold in no more. Overloading the sensors in the manacles and implant with attempts to control the Force would lead to dreadful pain. Crippling pain. 

His wrists ached as the burned skin twitched in time with the rest of his shaking body, his breathing ragged and chopped.

Dreadful pain, crippling pain - but the unconsciousness that followed promised sweet detachment from his current state, from the dark, from reality.

He rocked on the bed, feet on the freezing floor, body shaking in spasms, counting.

 

Almost. 

 

_____

 

The door to his isolation cell burst open, shining painfully bright light. He jolted upright so hard he fell off the cot, landed in a heap on the cold concrete. Blinking against the light, he squinted, squirming to get seated. Somehow all his balance was gone. The concrete wobbled beneath him like the back of an unruly beast. 

He looked at the figure outlined in the cool white light and found his guard had his father’s face.

_ Get up, Ben, you’re gonna be late for your first lesson. _

His voice was gruff. He was gray haired and the jagged hole in his chest bled freely down the front of his shirt.

_ Luke isn’t going to go easy on you just because you’re his nephew… _

His father had that sour look on his face that was all too familiar. The light behind him was fading.

“No,” Kylo gasped, and unable to get to his feet he scrambled to all fours, held a shaking hand out to the figure in the door. His father smirked then, tilted his head towards him and held a hand to his face as if to whisper something to him.

_ Besides, your mom’s getting anxious kid. Let’s get you down there before she comes up to get you herself, huh? _

The light wasn’t fading, Kylo realized, but growing dark. The blood on his father’s shirt was black. His father had gone suddenly very still. The smirk on his face was gone and his eyes were nearly as dark as the world at his back.

_ They leave at night _ .

“What?” He asked. His father was wearing chains now, on his wrists and his ankles and wrapped round his neck. His shirt was ragged and dirty, his face had grown gaunt.

_ They leave at night. _

The darkness surrounded him now, but it wasn’t black. Stars shone behind the dark frame of the door, the ground his father stood on gleamed a dusty pale violet, and behind him rose dark hills striated through with a gleaming blue. 

_ They leave at night _ .

White noise invaded Kylo’s head as his father disappeared. Vertigo threw him as the floor collapsed beneath him like a mound of melting gelatin. The blinding light returned like an echo, pinpointing in his eyes as the dark of the walls crashed onto him.

 

___

 

He found Hux in the cafeteria during lunch the first day he was allowed back out. It irritated Kylo, seeing him without a guard in sight, sitting relaxed and almost bored at a table, the other inmates giving him a respectful berth. The tray sitting on the table before Hux was empty, and yet the man was dallying, paging through a sheaf of printouts - contraband news stories no doubt, brought to him by one of his new lackeys. It was outrageous that he’d managed to have such control while locked up and widely regarded by the public as a mass murderer, but Kylo had learned that there was little fairness nor logic in the galaxy to be had.

The former general had gone from being under constant supervision to enjoying a relatively unharassed existence within the confines of their jail in weeks. Manipulating a system based on power plays and internal politics was laughingly easy for him, and while Kylo had spent his days in high security lock up and isolation Hux had slid with distressing ease into a sort of synthetic amiableness with the hyper-watchful guards, and into a nearly stressless existence within the jail’s confines. Status among the other inmates hadn’t come without a price, however, and the results of having to prove himself to those jealous of the inattention he was being treated with left him with multiple scars and a limp that he hadn’t been able to work out, even with the casual if somewhat strenuous contacts he had among the jail’s guards allowing him a greater access to the medical bay than should’ve been allowed.

Hux didn’t look up as Kylo neared him. Inmates at other tables cast Kylo wary glances, mutters following him as he passed, and though it made his hackles rise, he ignored them. He had exactly thirty minutes allowed for what was supposed to be lunch and he was not going to waste his time on such petty matters. 

Sitting somewhat heavily down at a chair across from Hux, he waited with silent impatience for the man to turn his attention to him. Hux had become somewhat more difficult for him to reach, if that was possible, once they’d been sent to serve their sentences. Associating with Kylo was low on the man’s list of priorities, rather the opposite; if he’d have his way he wouldn’t have to deal with him at all, and Kylo was well aware of it. The only thing keeping Hux from cutting all ties was the fact that there were simply some inmates he wasn’t able to handle himself, inmates that other inmates wouldn’t dare face, that even the guards would avoid angering. There was something to be said about being widely regarded as an unstable psychotic wreck.

But Kylo didn’t need to think about that just then. He refocused on what was important, and that was talking to Hux, and setting his plan in motion. If it could be called a plan.

“What,” Hux said finally in an irritated exhale, still not looking at him, “Is it this time, Ren?”

“Kylo,” Kylo corrected him. 

“Ren,” Hux repeated. They’d had this discussion before.

“I need your help,” Kylo said, trying to keep his voice low. He leaned over the table slightly, “I need you to talk to your guard.”

“My guard,” Hux said with an amused snort. He was still paying more attention to the printouts than to Kylo.

“The one you’re fucking.” Kylo clarified. Hux’s eyes shot to him, fingers clenching the papers in his hands, crumpling them somewhat. He darted a gaze to the sides, then refocused on Kylo, eyes blazing.

“You better have a damn good reason...” Hux hissed, eyes dagger sharp and dangerous. 

“I need to get out of here,” Kylo said, then added, “I need to get out of the prison.”

“I said a  _ good _ reason Ren,” Hux spat. He shoved his chair back from the table, folded the paper with precise, vicious movements, and stood from the table. Kylo rose as Hux did, hurrying to keep up with him as the other man strode from the cafeteria and into the corridor.

“He won’t help you,” Hux said once they were halfway down the corridor, nearing the intersection to the cells, his tone low and once more controlled. A guard stood at the head of the intersection; she nodded as Hux passed, then eyed Kylo with that wary, disgusted look that he’d come to know all too well. 

Hux had given the order to destroy five planets yet  _ he _ was the one getting nasty looks.

Focus, he reminded himself.

“He’d help  _ you _ ,” He told Hux, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him to a halt just before the turn to the security check before the cellblock. Hux shot him a disdainful look, glanced down at Kylo’s hand on his arm as if it were something distasteful.

“You’re insane,” Hux responded, glancing back up at Kylo. He flexed his arm in Kylo’s grip, a silent demand to be released. Kylo didn’t let go.

“He would. You know it.” Kylo pressed closer, “If you asked, he’d do it.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” Hux laughed derisively, “Even now they have you under surveillance, watching your every move, and with those manacles and that implant, you’re about as capable of enacting an escape as a castrated Vornskr.”

Kylo felt that like a slap to his face. The heat of anger rose in him, threatening to shake his focus, and his fingers clenched tighter around Hux’s arm.

“Mir…” He spoke slowly, enunciating carefully, focusing on his words to keep the rage at bay, “Mir can find out how to remove the manacles. Without them, the implant is only half as effective, at most. I will be able to use the Force then.”

“And why, exactly,” Hux spoke nearly as slowly and carefully as Kylo then, his face having gone cautiously passive and slightly paler as Kylo’s fingers tightened. “Are you looking to escape now?”

Hux glanced to the side, eyeing the corridor, as Kylo formulated the answer, obviously watching to make sure they weren’t being overheard.

“I saw my father,” Kylo said quietly. Hux’s gaze returned to him.

“Your father?” Hux’s tone went mocking again, lip lifting in a slight sneer. “Right. Good for you then.”  
“He’s alive,” Kylo hissed, pulling Hux closer harshly. Something like panic shot through the former general’s eyes, and for a moment both men stood silent.

“Of course he is.” Hux responded finally, though without a trace of mockery in his voice this time. There was a strange look in his eyes. 

“I can find him,” Kylo forced himself to loosen his grip on Hux’s arm. “I just need to get out of this place.”

For a long moment Hux said nothing, merely stood there and eyed him as if he were trying to pick him apart, piece by piece. Kylo hated when Hux did that, looked at him like he was a faulty machine, to be taken apart into pieces in order to find the malfunction. Hux had always looked at him like that, as if there was something inherently wrong with that fact that he existed, as if he were a glitch of the universe itself. The thought grated on Kylo’s nerves; it came too close to his own self-doubt. He hated being reminded of it.

Hux let out a long breath finally, pulling Kylo out of his sudden disconnection. Eyes hardened, Hux pulled his arm out of Kylo’s grip.

“I make no promises.” He spat the words out as if they tasted bad, then turned neatly on his heel and walked away. Kylo stayed where he was, almost surprised by how suddenly Hux had, in his own way, agreed to help. Kylo had expected a much longer argument.

Footsteps reached him, and he turned to find a couple of guards heading towards him, blasters out. He recognized them all too well, and an animal panic rose through his spine and crowded in the back of his brain. 

“Lunch is over,” The first snapped. Kylo eyed his blaster warily and nodded in silent acknowledgement. The guard waved his blaster towards the cell block, while the second stood in the center of the corridor, ready to block any attempt at an escape.

Kylo swallowed thickly, fighting back the urge to fling the men back, to  _ get them away from him _ , and headed in harried step back to his cell.

____

 

Two weeks had passed and Hux hadn’t approached him. Sitting on the concrete floor of his cell, he traced the edges of the bloodstain in front of him with a finger, resisting the urge to punch it again. The scabs on his knuckles leaked raw blood as he clenched his fist, using the itching pain to refocus his thoughts, to keep from letting the low-burning rage and frustration in his gut from simmering over. His back ached as he shifted his position, trying,  _ trying _ , to control his breathing as he’d been taught, to keep his mind level. The bruises on his back set him thinking of those guards, their sneers, the whistle of wind as they whipped their batons… the roiling in his gut intensified with a mix of dread and anger that set him tensing at the thought. 

Castrated Vornskr. The rage in him rose exponentially, he gritted his teeth, flinching as a reflexive attempt to cast out with the Force -  _ destroy them  _ \- caused the manacles to spark, burned skin sizzling under the assault.

Focus. 

Breathe in, breathe out.

His head ached, whether from the implant or the will required of him to keep himself tamed he couldn’t tell.

The door to his cell slid open. He resisted the urge to jump to his feet, dash out and find Hux and beat the answer out of him. No, that’s not what he wanted to do. His mind twirled restlessly, hungrily. 

“Lunch,” The gruff voice behind his back said dismissively. Kylo waited until the tap of the guard’s boots had moved on, then rose to his feet, shooting a cautious look to the door. He wiped the blood off his hands onto his shirt and headed out towards the corridor. The guards at the security check eyed his bloody shirt suspiciously, but waved him through once they realized it was his own. He took the path to the cafeteria in long strides, eager to find out if Hux had any news for him. He’d been avoiding the man over the past weeks, deciding to let him work without interfering. It annoyed him horribly, frustrated him almost beyond reason, but as much as it grated on him to admit it he was at the mercy of Hux’s discretion now. Some nights he’d almost regretted reaching out to him, but without Hux’s help there was no way he’d be able to escape.

“Oy, Master Ren.” 

Kylo jolted to a halt, spun to find himself face to face with a guard. For a brief second he didn’t recognize the man before him, but then his mind pieced his accent together with his face. There were an extremely few people that would utter that phrase without a hint of mockery in their tone.

“Look like you’ve done a number on your hands, mate,” The guard - Mir - said. His eyes glinted with amusement as he eyed Kylo. They were strange eyes, far too yellow to be amber. Kylo had suspicions about the look of those eyes, about the slight reddish tint of the man’s dark skin. “I think a trip to the med bay is in order.”

“I… I’m supposed to be going to-” Kylo began, slightly confused by the guard’s sudden appearance. He’d rarely been close enough to Mir to speak more than a few words, by Hux’s design no doubt. The fact that the guard had found him out, himself, stirred the small beast of hope in Kylo’s mind. 

“Get that taken care of, aye,” Mir said, then snapped, “After me.”

Whatever amusement had been on his face before that was replaced with the stony expression most of the guards wore, impassive and cold. Kylo fell into step behind him, slightly nervous with the thought that  _ something _ was being set in motion. 

They took corridors Kylo had never seen, though that was no large surprise. His paths within the walls of the jail were harshly limited; cafeteria, cell block, and the dark confines of the isolation block. Mir kept a steady pace, leading Kylo finally to a corridor he vaguely remembered. He’d been in the med bay once, allowed in it once. It hadn’t changed much, Kylo noted as they entered the room. The walls were the same gray steel as the rest of the jail, while all the furniture was a sterile white. The large room was oddly silent however, and the front desk stood empty.

Mir allowed the door to slide closed behind them, and while Kylo took a look around the guard tapped a code into the security pad next to it. The buttons flashed green twice, then switched to a steady red. 

Without a word, the guard motioned Kylo towards the back of the room where several beds were separated off with hanging material dividers. As they passed the first, Kylo caught a glimpse of the orderly that should’ve been at the med bay’s front desk, unconscious and strapped into the bed behind the curtain. 

“Back here,” Mir said, leading the way to a curtained off area towards the middle of the row of beds. A trace of excitement had edged its way into his voice. 

Behind the curtains stood a large object in a dusty white cover. Kylo didn’t need to see it to know what it was; he jerked to a stop a pace inside the curtain, his skin prickling as memories burst forefront in his mind. He saw it already, in his mind, the cold metal and the flashing data screens, the cavities where his arms had been forced into.

“Come on then,” Mir said, eyeing Kylo warily. “I’ve read the instructions, I can get it to work fast. It’ll be over before you know it.”

His tone was sympathetic and soothing, as if he were coaxing a whimpering mutt out from under a table. Maybe he was, Kylo thought, realizing he’d begun to shake again. Setting his jaw he pushed the memories away and walked up to the damn machine as Mir removed the cover.   
It was as he’d seen it, before and in his dreams and in his memories just then, cold and intimidating with all the potential it held. 

It hadn’t existed before his capture, this machine. It hadn’t had a reason to exist.

Mir set it in motion with a few tapped commands, and the low hum of the machine’s motor rose in the room. The sound jolted Kylo again, and he swallowed thickly, clenching his hands into fists, the knuckles bleeding freely now. Mir gave him a guarded look, then nodded towards the machine. Kylo opened his hands, then forced them, shaking, elbow deep into the machine’s waiting cavities. 

For a moment there was nothing but the near-silent tap of Mir’s fingers on the controls. Then the hum rose louder, and Kylo flinched in horrid anticipation.

The pain was worse than he’d expected. Gritting his teeth he fought against the gasp that threatened to escape his mouth. The machine worked with swift efficiency, unseen robotic fingers probing and dissecting the metal and mechanism within the manacles. He could feel the weight on his wrists lessening as, piece by piece, they were dismantled and removed. He should’ve felt relieved at that, but any relief was overwhelmed by the horrible stabbing and burning pain as each piece of the manacles was pulled away from his arms, ripped away in some places - he could feel his skin sticking to the metal, feel the pull of it as the machine tore each piece away with cold and mechanically indifferent precision. 

Kylo barely realized when it was over. The pain clouded his vision with sickening red, and his arms felt leaden and heavy as he tugged them out of the machine’s hold.

It wasn’t until he saw the blood on his wrists, the strips of skin peeled away from his arms that he realized why the extraction had been so painful. The multiple times the shocks had burned away at his skin must’ve made the scar tissue build until it had bridged the narrow gap between skin and metal and seared itself to the manacles. The machine didn’t account for that sort of occurrence, and he was left with blood pooling out of fresh wounds and dripping onto the floor.

“Here,” Mir said from somewhere next to him. Kylo could see the man’s hand approaching in his peripheral vision and jerked his arms back, flinching away. Mir stopped in mid-reach, and Kylo eyed him with distrust, the pain still filling his head. Mir was holding bandages; he looked like he was holding his breath. Kylo shuddered, realized that the guard was only trying to help, and held his arms out to him. Mir worked quickly, not entirely gently, but soon enough Kylo’s arms and wrists were wrapped and while the pain was still stabbing it had receded somewhat. Kylo was able to think clearly at least, and when Mir rose to leave Kylo hurried close behind him.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed since Mir had waylaid him in the corridor, but it must have been quite a while. The guard seemed to move ever faster, hurrying through passages, muttering irritably under his breath at doorways where the door refused to move quickly enough for him. He didn’t offer any information, and Kylo didn’t ask. His mind was fighting with the haze of pain, but something was piercing through it. Something was slithering its way into his mind, slowly and methodically but insistent, cold and hot, so familiar and alien at the same time. 

Had it been that long, that he could forget that feeling? That he could forget what it was like to have the Force, not just around him but within him as well, part of him as it had always been.

He could feel it, slowly growing in his mind, the map of the world around him. In bits and pieces to be sure, but it came to him like pings on a radar, like full 3d mapping once he recognized it and focused on it. He could feel Mir walking in front of him, not see him, but feel the way he affected the force, how his form moved through it. Feel the shape of others surrounding them in nearby corridors and rooms. The sensations skittered around the edges of his mind, but they were  _ there _ and they were real. He could feel the Force again. He could  _ use _ the Force again.

Ecstatic, he reached out his senses, longing to once again feel the full power of the Force within himself. The sudden stab of panic that rose within him shocked him out of his revelry, dragged him away from the Force, set his mind reeling. His breathing ragged, he almost stopped from the sudden shock of it. He wanted to try, again, but that panic refused to leave, hung at the back of his mind pacing like a cagey Nexu. He could feel its wild flutter, its eagerness to pounce, and couldn’t bring himself to try again. 

“Here,” Mir opened a door, and headed down a set of stairs. Kylo followed, looking around curiously. He hadn’t dared to imagine what the escape would be like if it happened, some strange paranoia keeping him from thinking about it in case it would jinx the whole matter. He wasn’t sure what to expect, really. Was Hux heading this plan? Was Mir more than just an accomplice, would he join as well? Would they head to the hangar and blast their way out? The world’s surface? 

The stairway was long, and they headed quite a ways down. 

“No one stopped us,” Kylo said once the realization hit him. “Along the way, no one was there.”  
“Aye, according to plan then,” Mir said, shooting a grin back at Kylo, but he didn’t elaborate, and Kylo once again didn’t push for more information.

They reached the seventh landing, and Mir opened the door and led the way through. Kylo hadn’t felt much in the way of presences on their way down, but he did then. A couple of figures registered in his mind, somewhere beyond the section of corridor he could see, and he reached out warily to get a better feel, trying to ignore that rise of panic that accompanied his use of the Force.

One figure was familiar, Hux, pacing the width of the corridor in impatience. Another figure lay on the floor, no one that Kylo knew. He could reach further, but his skin was prickling already, his breathing ragged despite his attempts to control it. 

Mir led the way down the corridor, and took a corner. Kylo could see now he was right; Hux paced in front of a heavy steel door, the figure of a guard lying on the floor to the side. Hux had taken the guard’s blaster, the holster slung across his shoulder, and he shot them an impatient glare as they neared.

“Took you long enough,” Hux huffed. Kylo could  _ feel _ his irritation, he realized with pleasant surprise. 

The unconscious guard’s com unit buzzed erratically, static and half-garbled words that Kylo could barely make out:

_ -Guard U-...-C3 Repeat Block C-...-All uni---respond- _

Mir stepped over the fallen guard and tapped at the security pad. The numbers flashed red, over and over, and the guard - former guard now? - glared at the pad as he continued to work at it.

“What is it, where are we?” Kylo asked. Hux breathed out his nose, watching Mir work at the security pad with unconcealed impatience, then turned his attention to Kylo.

“An unmanned storage unit,” Hux said, then rolled his eyes back to Mir, “That  _ someone _ was to have the code for.”

“Aye General,” Mir snapped back, “Maybe you’d like to have a go at it?”

Hux frowned, eyes narrowing, and lifted the blaster in his hand. Mir had finally put in the correct code, however, and the buttons flashed green. With a hiss the door slid open, revealing a darkened room beyond. Hux, blaster at ready in case the unit was less unmanned than expected, strode inside first, and Mir followed. Kylo held back, finding the sudden dark beyond the doorway disconcerting. His skin pricked again, his heart pounding in his chest. The ache the burn at his wrist pulsed in time with his heart. Darkness beyond the doorway, darkness, pressing around him, darkness…

He took a step back, then another. The room was too small, too stifling. The walls were too close. The dark was too deep, it was all wrong. It was all wrong.

Light flashed, blinding him.

“Are you coming, Ren?” Hux’s voice reached him as if through layers of water. Hesitantly, Kylo stepped forward, the light in his eyes receding to manageable levels.

The storage unit was larger than he’d expected. Sitting in the middle of it, looking dusty and old, was a ship Kylo thought he should recognize, if only vaguely. The front of it came to a point, the bridge sitting high and well back from the nose. Massive, impractical viewing windows showed through to an observation deck inside. Memory tickled his brain, and he squinted at the ship.

“That’s… a SoroSuub yacht,” Kylo said finally. 

“It is,” Hux said, giving him a bemused look, as if he hadn’t been expecting Kylo to have that sort of knowledge, “Are you coming or are you going to stand there gaping like an idiot until the gunners show up?”

That got Kylo moving; he stepped over the threshold and headed towards the entrance ramp. Mir was nowhere to be seen, no doubt already inside readying the ship. The engines had begun to hum to life as Kylo neared, and lights flashed on, visible through the windows of the observation deck.

“Why is there a yacht being stored here?” Kylo asked. It was a bit ridiculous, a prison keeping a luxury ship in storage.

“Confiscated, possibly,” Hux answered irritably, following Kylo on board. “What does it matter?”

“Will it get us off the planet?” Kylo asked, as that was the more important question.

“Mir seems to think so,” Hux responded. He didn’t sound convinced.

They headed towards the bridge, where the man in question sat at the controls, flipping switches and tapping away at the console.

“She’s a bit of a relic,” Mir said with a sigh, “But she’ll do.”

“If they take out those ridiculous windows we won’t be going anywhere,” Hux said as he sat in the second seat, playing at the controls until he pulled up a diagnostics list.

“I scoped her out before,” Mir shot Hux a nasty look, obviously irritated at the lack of trust in his abilities. “Her shields are operational, aye, as is her cannon. She’ll get us out of here.”

Hux looked skeptical. To be honest, Kylo felt the same. Luxury yachts weren’t meant for breaking out of maximum security prisons, but he had little choice.

“Let’s get it going then,” Mir said, still sounding a bit irked. He tapped at the controls, and the wall before them shuddered. A seam appeared down the middle, and the two halves slid shakily apart at a snail’s pace, slowly revealing a darkened tunnel beyond. Sensor lights lit up along the control panel, and a three dimensional view of the tunnel before them lit up on the windows they faced. 

Kylo stepped back and sat in a third seat, only then realizing how shaky his legs had gotten, his body had gotten. He was getting out. They were getting out.

“We’re not out yet,” Hux muttered, as if he could read Kylo’s thoughts. The idea was disturbing. 

Mir adjusted the controls and pressed forward on the control stick. The ship shook, lifting off the floor of the hold and hovering slightly off-balance. 

Kylo had been used to the shuddering, once, but the barely-there reverberations were suddenly distressing. He found himself gripping the seat’s armrests tightly, the pain in his knuckles and wrists becoming stabbing and burning again with the tension. He tried to focus on something, on the cold tickle of the Force against his mind, on the way he could close his eyes and feel the two men on the ship with him, anything to keep from latching onto that shudder, anything to keep himself from trying to figure out if it was really the ship shaking or him.

There was a screech, ear piercing and massive. His eyes snapped open to find that the doors had finally opened fully. The tunnel beyond was still dark, foreboding, but the three dimensional view on the windows glowed steadily. Mir glanced at Hux, then back at Kylo, as if reassuring himself of something. Kylo couldn’t sense what it could be, and though he tried to reach out, the panic in the back of his mind rose to meet him halfway. He pushed himself harder against the back of the chair, as if he could melt into it and somehow quiet the anxious energy within himself. Mir pressed forward on the throttle, and the ship shot forward into the darkness of the tunnel beyond.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, we've reached Chapter 2.   
> I do hope you all enjoy! If you'd like to reach me outside of this site, you can find me on Tumblr at itsdetachable.tumblr.com  
> I use the tag "a little unsteady fic" for things regarding this story.  
> Questions? Criticisms? Lay 'em on me.  
> Thank you for reading!

The beeping wouldn’t stop. Kylo’s hand shook as he struggled to reconnect the wiring but the wires were so small and his fingers kept sticking to the wires from to all the blood drying on them.

“Fuck.  _ FUCK. _ ”

Hux kicked at a nearby wall. The sound of it, the impact of it, made Kylo jump, and he dropped the wires. The beeping continued, incessant and maddening at this point. Kylo took a deep breath, counted to six, exhaled slowly, repeated, struggled to maintain his control and keep his flight response from kicking in as Hux stomped away towards the back of the ship.

The escape had gone too smoothly, on the inside at least. Of  _ course _ it had gone too smoothly. Once out of the tunnel, rocketing from beneath the prison and into the atmosphere, they ran headlong into a blockade of gunships. Laser cannons lit up the sky, bombarding the yacht’s shields and setting sensors and alarms wailing. Mir had cursed a storm as he attempted to maneuver the yacht through a sky swimming with laser fire and gunships, while Hux had taken control of the yacht’s single laser cannon in an attempt to cut them a path. 

Kylo had stayed riveted to his seat, unable to peel his clenched hands from the arm rests. With each jolt of laser blast, each shudder of the ship, his heart threatened to leap from his chest, his mind flickering on-off-on in his head. He’d wanted to help, somehow; he could feel the ships around them, clean lined blades cutting through the atmosphere, the lasers like burning brands stinging across the sky. It all resonated within his skull, the hum of the ships and the burn of the lasers. 

He’d wanted to help, focusing on the alarms, the sensors, trying to think of a way to - his mind slipped away -a way to what? The battle raged but it was above hills of sand on a planet dotted with First Order bases. New Republic gunships morphed into Resistance X-wings in his mind’s eye. The laser cannons and plasma blasts fired hotter and faster above him, the sky was a maelstrom of metal and fire and falling ships. The dust and embers settled on windswept dunes as Resistance fighters poured out of freighters and Stormtroopers sped to meet them. Flamethrower troops left the sands dotted with burning bodies, white armored figures fell down dune faces spattered in blood. The screams - the roars of engines - the blast of lasers - rose in deafening cacophony around him -

By the time his senses had returned, they were in hyperspace. The jump, he’d discovered from listening to Hux argue with Mir, hadn’t been by design. A concussion missile, though stopped by the ship’s shields, had exploded close enough to the bridge that the shockwaves had caused extensive damage to the ship’s controls. Hyperdrive had initiated when Mir had attempted to correct their dangerously list, and they’d jumped to hyperspace without preparation, with a compromised hull and damaged electronics.

And, apparently, no way of exiting the jump.  

Kylo looked towards the back of the ship where Hux had disappeared to. He could feel the man back there, pacing viciously. Looking down at the wires he’d been working on, Kylo considered just how useful they could be, whether he actually needed to be repairing them. He couldn’t be sure, he wasn’t trained in the electrical wiring of ships.

Wiping his hands ineffectively on his pants, he rose to his feet and slunk his way to the bridge. He needed to replace his bandages, they were soaked through with fresh blood, drying in odd ways and pinching his arms. He could feel the pain, it made his hands shake fitfully, but in the aftermath of his panicked haze it barely registered in his mind.

“Is there anything I can do?” He asked as he entered the bridge. Mir was sitting on the floor in front of the control console. He’d pulled off the panel and was attempting to rewire, or fix, or do something to the control boards and chips inside. Kylo couldn’t see how he was able to interpret anything in there; the whole of it looked blackened and smoked slightly. 

“Doubt it,” Mir said with a snort. “Unless you’ve got some way of pulling us out of hyperspace.”

“What is the issue?” Kylo asked. Mir actually turned to give him an odd look at that, and Kylo wondered if they’d told him already.

“The inhibitor,” Mir said, continuing to give him that odd look. He glanced back towards the short corridor that led off the bridge, Kylo could feel the wariness in the man’s mind rise as he realized that they were alone. “It’s… it’s locked itself in inhibition mode, basically.”

Kylo frowned. 

“It thinks everywhere we’re going, that there’s a star there,” Mir hurried to explain. Kylo realized that the man had read his expression wrong, he hadn’t been frowning  _ at him _ . “It won’t let us come out of hyperspace if there’s a star at our destination point, aye?”

“Isn’t there a workaround?” Kylo asked, looking down at the former guard. Mir was getting a nervous look in his eyes, and even though he hadn’t glanced back at the corridor again Kylo could sense his growing unease. 

“There should be, aye,” Mir said; his accent seemed to get thicker the more anxious he got. “Should be, but th’damn computer isn’t responding. An’the wires are…”

Mir waved at the mass of blackened components. They might have been labeled, at some point. 

A horrible screeching reached them all of a sudden, metal on metal, echoing up to them through the ship. A loud crash followed, and Mir scrambled to his feet as Kylo shot a horrified look down the corridor. Was the ship in worse shape than they’d thought? Was the stabilizer failing? Was the ship coming apart under the pressures of hyperspace travel?

Hux appeared suddenly in the corridor, his footsteps made heavier by the mass of twisted metal he was carrying. He entered the bridged and dropped it unceremoniously to the ground, a maniacally triumphant gleam in his eyes.

“What is that?” Kylo asked, wondering if Hux had lost his mind. For all his fanaticism Hux had been surprisingly stable as far as Kylo could tell. If he was losing his grasp on sanity…

“The inhibitor,” Hux responded, panting from the exertion. “I’ve bypassed it.”

“How the bloody…” Mir gaped in surprise, “I didn't think you knew a damn thing ‘bout ship mechanics.”

“Go on, see if this fixes our situation,” Hux answered, looking only slightly irked at the negative judgment of his skill.

“Aye, Sir,” Mir said with a grin, spinning back to the the control panel and tapping away at the controls.

“W… what?” Kylo asked, eyeing the hunk of metal curiously. 

Hux looked at him, and after a brief moment his expression dimmed from it’s exultant glow.

“Ren, are you all right?” He asked, voice low.

“I’m fine!” Kylo snapped. His head felt hazy and everything was very far away all of a sudden. His mind finished registering what Hux had done- Hux had removed the inhibitor. 

“Sit down,” Hux ordered, and though Kylo wanted to resist he found Hux’s return to the cool tone of a commanding officer somewhat reassuring. It was familiar, at the very least, and so he settled down into one of the chairs as Hux watched.

“Good, I’m going to find a medical kit,” Hux didn’t wait for a response as he turned back to the corridor.

“It’s fine,” Kylo muttered to his back. The blood dripped from his loose fingers onto the steel floor, and only now he noticed the trail he’d left behind him. 

“It’s all right,” Kylo said, reassuringly, to someone. To himself. He looked at Mir, and Mir spared a cautious glance his way, but said nothing in return. 

Hux returned with a medical kit, and while Kylo wasn't quite thrilled with it he allowed him to rewrap his arms. Hux didn't look all that thrilled either, his expression one of obvious disgust as his hands became coated with blood. He shot Mir a dirty look at one point, as if it were his fault Hux had been put into such a situation. 

“Managed to recalibrate it,” Mir muttered finally. “I'm taking us back to realspace.”

“Where?” His grimaced as he looked down at his hands. 

“Takodana,” Mir replied. 

Memories tugged at Kylo’s mind.

“Is it still....” He searched his brain for the appropriate word, “Functional?”

That wasn't it, but no one bothered to correct him.

“Maz got right to fixing it as soon as you all were out if there,” Mir said, “Takes more than that to put Maz out of business.”

He spoke of her with too much familiarity, and Kylo felt it within him as well, a nostalgic twinge round the edges of his mind.

“Is Takodana really a good idea?” Hux asked. He was attempting to clean his hands off with a length of bandage but it was doing him little good. “The amount of people there-”

“Amount of bounty hunters, you mean,” Mir cut in.

“They'll be more than willing to catch us and hold us until a bounty is put out,” Hux tossed the soiled bandages into the med kit and sighed. His hands looked no better than when he'd started. “If they don't kill us outright…”

“ _ If _ they see us…” Kylo said, wafting his way into the conversation. They were settling back into realspace, and the front windows filled with vast deep star studded darkness.

“Exactly,” Mir said with a grin.

“So we land, leave this wreck behind and steal a new ship?” Hux said, catching on to the idea. Though he didn't sound entirely convinced, but Kylo could tell his mind was already working with that idea. “We've only got the two blasters, and we can't afford to make a scene.”

“I can find an empty ship,” Kylo looked at Hux, eager to be helpful in some way. Focusing on the problems facing them was helping to chase away some of the haze in his mind, draw his attention away from the pulsing ache in his arms. “I can scan them, make sure no one is aboard.”

Hux looked almost skeptical at Kylo’s sudden eagerness.

“Aye, that would be a help,” Mir said cheerfully enough, though Kylo could still feel his unease. He couldn't tell just how much the former guard knew about the Force, about how it worked - maybe just enough to be fearful and distrustful of it.

“Before that,” Hux stood and leaned against the edge of the console, eyeing Takodana as it grew closer. “We should decide where we go from here.”

He looked at Kylo then, wordlessly implying that their next actions would depend on what information he could supply. What could he supply? Kylo thought back to that - vision? dream? - of his father, trying to get an idea of where he could be. Closing his eyes, he struggled to bring the images back; the striped hills, the dusty purple ground. The stars in the sky, he didn't recognize any of their formations. Wherever his father was, it was a planet that was completely alien to him.

“West,” He said finally, opening his eyes again. Hux eyed him suspiciously,as if he were aware that Kylo had pulled the direction out of thin air.

“How far west?” Was all he asked. 

“West. Far, possibly,” Kylo responded, holding Hux’s gaze impassively. It was as good a direction as any, and this way at least they'd be moving away from the New Republic. Sensing Hux’s continued uncertainty, he added, “You don't have to go.”

“That is certainly true,” Hux said, letting out an irritated breath.

“Takodana’s a good place to switch ships,” Mir spoke up,turning to look at them, “But it might not be a good place to go splitting off, especially since we’ve got no supplies to take with us.”

“What do you suggest then?” Hux said, shooting a wicked yet amused look at the man.

“Bespin,” Mir supplied.

“Cloud City?” Hux looked unconvinced.

“No,” Mir paused, then continued hesitantly, “The White One's Citadel.”

Hux looked puzzled, but Kylo recognized the name.

“Jiska,” He said to Hux, “A Hutt. Her citadel is a gathering spot for the…  _ truly _ immoral smugglers and bounty hunters.”

“Unlike the only partially immoral smugglers and bounty hunters we’d find on Takodana?” Hux asked with a laugh.

“It’s a dangerous place, unlike Maz’s watering hole there's no mutual rules of respect,” Mir turned back to the control panel. Their ship was entering the atmosphere and he switched the controls back to manual. “But no one looks at you twice there, aye, they'll avoid looking at you once if they can. And if we can find a ship with decent cargo on it we can get supplies. They don't pay much for anything other than spice there, but if we can find a decently large load we'll be able to get a few credits out of it.”

“How, exactly, do you know all of this again?” Hux looked at Mir with an expression bordering on suspicion. Kylo shared it, such an specific knowledge of The Citadel wasn’t something a prison guard would be expected to know.

“I know things,” Mir said evasively, focusing instead on steering the ship low over the bright green islands below them. Kylo reached out with the Force, just to tap on Mir’s mind in the hopes of gleaning some information. His control hadn't fully returned yet however, and it was still tempered by the anxious thought that he had no idea what the limit was anymore, how far he could push it before the implant would react. All he could read in the brief touch was the sense of  _ memories _ , of  _ familiarity _ .

He definitely knew Takodana. Rather than coming in from the front of the castle, over the lagoons, he'd steered the ship to come in from the back. The sun touched the tips of the castles towers, rays shining through in places where the walls had yet to be repaired. The shadow cast by the castle reached long arms over the forests behind it. Reaching for them. Skimming the treetops, Mir settled the yacht in an empty, swampy glade barely within sight of Maz Kanata’s castle.

Kylo hadn't seen the castle since… All his brain registered was that it was a while ago, back when they were still searching for the map to Skywalker. His father had come here with the traitor and the girl - his mind fluttered with the memories, the attack in the castle, facing Rey in the woods. He hadn't expected  _ her _ . He hadn't expected her…

“Bit of a walk,” Mir said as he rose from the control seat, grinning at Hux apologetically. The other man didn't seem to notice. Eyes hard, face set stony, he looked very nearly the General once again, drab prison clothes and all. He nodded, once.

“Let’s go.”

They reached the first ship as the sun reached zenith overhead. It was a freighter, an old one, scarred and dirty. The trees around it bore signs of a haphazard landing. Kylo didn't bother with scanning the hunk of garbage, and they headed on in search of the next. The following freighter was much larger, and carrying living cargo. Kylo could feel them inside, masses of writhing bodies falling over and around each other. 

The third ship was a small cruiser, the fourth a bulky and heavily damaged gunship. The fourth, however, was in relatively good shape. It looked like it had started out as a rather small courier freighter, but the modifications it's owners had added made it almost unrecognizable as one. Laser cannons, additional plating attached at key points, massive engines that must, at one point, have belonged to a different ship. All in all, while it was pieced together somewhat oddly it looked to be a well maintained craft.

“Aye,” Mir said appreciatively, “That'll do.”

Kylo agreed, the ship seemed more than enough for their needs. He looked at Hux to see if the agreement was unanimous, but found the man eyeing Mir with an uneasy look in his eyes. Kylo had noticed Hux watching Mir before that, but now he could sense his growing suspicion as well, an unease that had began gnawing at him in the back of his mind. Kylo probed deeper, slowly, feeling how Hux had grown wary of the former guard; this wasn't the person he'd expected the man to be. This wasn't the person he was, back at the prison. This revelation was shocking to Hux for some reason.

“Right,” Hux said finally, eyeing the hulking ship before them, then turned his gaze on Kylo. “Scan it.”

Kylo had the feeling that Hux had felt him touching on his thoughts. An instinctual feeling; he knew how well the former General could maintain that well practiced look, and the man showed no outward signs of noticing the intrusion. Still, Hux’s eyes pierced him, and Kylo found himself looking away, towards the ship instead.

Hesitantly, he reached out further with his senses, touching the ship’s hull first, then piercing past it slowly. The further he looked, the more aware he became of the implant in his brain, silent and waiting for the threshold to be crossed. It clouded him a bit, that heavy weight in his head, the knowledge that the pain was waiting for him, hovering in anticipation. He had no idea how far he could push it, and again the thought made his will falter, his grasp on the Force weaken.

Focus, he snapped at himself, taking a steadying breath. Focus.

Past the hull, past the walls, he felt through the space of the corridors. The rooms lining the main corridor were empty, the bridge was as well. The cargo hull in back was relatively full, he could possibly find out with what if he focused on it. His inclination to do so wavered as he felt an odd sensation start up at the front of his skull, an all too familiar sting prickling within him. Not pain, not yet, but the foreboding discomfort that preceded it. The implant always had a time delay; it was so much more potent a disciplinary device than the manacles that they'd granted him that one thing, that slight opportunity to back off before the implant fully initiated.

But how long did he have? The panicked beast in his mind was growling, clawing at him, but he needed to know. The manacles had hindered his ability to feel for the limit, the pain from their shocks distracting from the growing pressure in his brain, but now that he was without them... he could learn to feel for it, now, learn to toe the line without crossing into that chasm of pain.

Someone was behind them.

The figure pinged his mind like a blip on a radar screen, standing out suddenly, starkly, from the still trees behind them. He’d been slow to notice, his senses felt sluggish, limited - had he truly grown so weak? - but his physical reflexives made up for the their shortcoming. He spun around, thrusting a hand out toward the figure behind him, and felt the Force solidify around him, bursting out along the trajectory his arm pushed it on. The sting in his brain turned into a low ache, but no pain followed, not yet, and he reveled in the return of his strength, return of his control. The Force pulsed within him, coiling like a serpent around him, striking out with vicious and heavy hand at the Rodian standing at the tree line. Between them, hanging in the Force-thickened air, was a foot long blaster beam. It trembled and spat, stopped in mid-flight, caught much too close to him, so close it’s light nearly blotted his vision, but caught all the same. Kylo could feel it, the edges of it crackling within the cage of Force power he had molded around it. Behind, the Rodian attempted to struggle against the unseen bonds holding them, and Kylo could feel their fear as it was amplified through the Force hold. He could feel their body, feel the muscles spasm, the nerves fire, the organs writhe as the Rodian’s entire body gave way to panic. It had never felt this sort of power before, it couldn’t understand what it was.

This - THIS - he'd missed this, missed the way the Force bent under his control missed the way it conformed itself to his will. He could do anything, with the energy coursing through him like  _ this _ . He could feel anything,  _ everything, _ the whole of the world laid out in front of him, he could read it if he just focused, almost see the fractal intricacies of it expanding around him. The return of this awareness was almost too much for him to contain, but he drew it in eagerly, reveled in the feeling.

What should he do with the Rodian? He mused on the thought, his mind reeling drunkenly through various options. He could throw them back through the tree trunks behind them, yes, or he could just launch them into the sky. He could crush their throat where he held them and feel the life snuff out of them as they strangled. He could crush their heart. He could…

He could-

The panic roared to life in the back of his mind. His ears were ringing, the stinging at the front of his skull had rapidly rose into a burning ache, was worsening monumentally each passing second. His concentration faltered, both the Rodian and the blaster bolt before him shuddered in the air as he struggled to maintain control. The pain was coming the pain was  _ coming _ and he was unable to see he  _ couldn't see _ his breath coming fast he tried to  **focus** but his focus was gone-gone-gone-

With a strangled cry he forced out and away, the blaster bolt streaking back away from him on a direct trajectory that caught the Rodian square in the chest a moment before they impacted with a tree trunk. The tree shuddered, bark cracking loudly with the force of it, and teh Rodian’s body fell heavily to the ground beneath it.

Kylo shuddered, slumping slightly he struggled to breathe, the ache in his brain thundering but stopping short of that explosive raw pain that he'd feared would come. He'd found his threshold, it seemed. Or it had found him. The outcome was the same.

“Now that is more like it,” Hux said, and Kylo glanced over to find the man giving him an appraising look. “Not quite as… impressive as you used to be able to do, but good enough. Come on then.”

Not as impressive, Hux said, as if Kylo hadn't just caught a blaster bolt and a person in the same instant, hadn't held both trapped, hadn't thrown them away as easily as he'd once done. His aching head, the panicked beat of his heart, reminded him that it  _ hadn't _ been quite as easy as before, however, and Hux’s dig at his abilities only aggravated him further. Hux was  _ right _ , it wasn’t quite what he’d been able to do before. He glared at Hux’’s back as he headed towards the ship, limping slightly. 

Straightening, he turned towards the ship and caught sight of Mir. The man stood stockstill, eyes widened, staring at him in open fear and shock. He jerked as Kylo’s eyes landed on him, took a step back, and then realizing that Hux was rapidly leaving them behind, hurried off to follow him. Kylo watched him go, an odd discomfort coming upon him. He used to revel in the fear he’d inspired in others as they watched him manipulate the Force, as they’d been touched by the Force he wielded - he’d  _ just _ reveled in doing so to the Rodian - but now, with the awareness of the Force dampened, no longer high on the feeling of controlling it, he was hit by a sudden unease. The realization came to him that he may never feel that way again, that he might never revel in the power to bring fear the way he used to. They feared because they were powerless in the face of the Force, and the thought chilled him deeply. To be controlled by another, to be at defenceless to the whims of another, to never know what to expect, pain or mercy, to be  _ helpless _ \- his head pulsed, his arms were heavy with pain, both current and remembered... 

The bandages had bled through again. He eyed them, a sickening twist in his gut.

Helpless.

For a moment he considered reaching his senses out to the Rodian, but forced himself not to. He didn’t need to touch on them to know they were dead. Still he wavered, feeling as he were teetering on the edge of some deep ravine, his balance gone and his vision blurred. It was the blood loss, no doubt. The shock of it all. Steadying himself, mentally and maybe physically as well, he made his weary way to the ship and climbed the ramp inside.

He didn’t see either Hux or Mir as he entered and closed the airlock behind him. Their voices reached him from further in the ship, towards the bridge, but he didn’t feel the need to move closer. They knew their next destination, they had no need of him at the moment. Onwards to Bespin and The White One’s Citadel. Kylo found himself grateful that they were not planning to split up on Takodana. His body ached, his head burned, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten. The day before, maybe; he’d never quite liked eating the breakfast the guards brought him in the mornings. He could never trust them, would’ve rather waited for his daily allowed lunch break than to risk eating what they’d brought.  

For a long moment he stood in the corridor, eyeing his surroundings and feeling out with his senses. The corridor itself was narrow with several doors set in it; two rooms for crew with bunks set into the walls, and a relatively well-sized refresher. A larger area opened towards the back of the ship, right before the cargo doors. He thought for a moment on where he might find a medpac, but thankfully did not have far to look. A few paces down the corridor a panel on the wall was marked with a worn medical symbol. Pulling it open, he found a couple battered medpacs stowed there with space to spare. The Rodian and their crew members either used up the rest, or never bothered with restocking. Taking the medpacs with him he headed to the refresher, entering and locking the door behind him. He had the odd feeling that Hux would appear out of nowhere if he didn’t lock it, offer to help with his arms again. It wouldn’t have been unwelcome, exactly, but Kylo wasn’t in the mood just then for Hux’s callous sympathy. It had always felt more like pity, the kind given to a stupid animal that had tripped over the same stone one too many times.  

Placing the medpacs on the edge of the sink, he opened the top one and looked through it. Plenty of bandages and gauze packed in sterile bags, a handful of cracked vials of unknown liquid that had leaked all over the bottom of the pack, and a pair of scissors. The second medpac was slightly better stocked; there were three vials of pain relievers along with a functional pneumatic dispenser, a pack of suture tape, a medisensor, and a nearly dry vial of bacta. Setting the items along the edge of the sink closest to the wall, Kylo set to work on the bandages on his arms.

The wounds had begun to scab up under them, sticking to the gauze. He’d thought he could wind them off but ended up needing to use the scissors instead, cutting slowly. The bandages were stuck on tightlyl with dried blood, however, and even after cutting them in several places he had to resort to running his wrists under water to loosen them off. It saved him some trouble with getting the wounds clean, at least. Once he’d gotten the last of the dirty gauze off he found himself wishing he’d left it all on. He hadn’t looked too closely when Mir had first bandaged the wounds, nor when Hux had re-dressed them. Now they glared at him, red and angry and inflamed, circling his wrists, edged in tatters of loose skin, leaking blood all over the dirty steel sink. The manacles were gone at least, he reminded himself, forcing himself to look at them. His hands shaking badly, he patted the wounds as dry as he could with a pad of gauze, then poured the remaining bacta over them. There wasn’t much but even that small amount should help them heal faster. His wrapping was clumsy, lumpy and uneven when he finished, but at least he wouldn’t end up bleeding everywhere. He found a trash bin set into the wall, and he pushed the soiled bandages inside. The medpacs he left where they were, he hadn’t the energy to put them away. 

Stepping into the corridor, he considered heading to the back and seeing if there was any food in the conservator. He reconsidered when his head began swimming as he turned towards the back, setting him swaying on his feet. He was tired, he ached, and he couldn’t get his head to stop spinning. The door next to the refresher was a sleeper berth, and he entered that instead. The bed creaked as he collapsed onto it, the mattress thin over the steel frame. He’d gotten quite used to sleeping on thin mattresses, however, and soon enough fell into a fitful sleep.

____

 

_ They leave at night,  _ His father reminded him.

“Who does?” He yelled into the star studded sky above. He was alone on a cold planet. Metal cylinders rose around him, some short and squat, some tall and thin. They glinted in the starlight, a stark dark against the dusty violet of the ground. Beyond them the striated hills rose and fell and rose and fell like waves on an ocean.

“Where are you?” He whispered, undulating in time with the hills.

His father did not answer.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks much for reading!   
> This is the longest chapter yet! I hope you all enjoy.   
> If there's anything you want to bug me about, please do!  
> Also, you can find me at itsdetachable.tumblr.com, I use the tag "a little unsteady fic" for story ramblings and such
> 
> Let me know what you think!

Hux and Mir were arguing, again. They’d been doing so on and off since leaving Takodana and it grated on Kylo’s nerves. He’d ventured out to grab a few packets of food from the conservator and then holed up inside the sleeper berth again, but he couldn’t avoid their voices even there. Sneaking his senses out to touch on their minds when they were too preoccupied to notice, he’d gleaned some information from their wayward thoughts.Kylo had come to understand what it was that aggravated Hux; he'd realized the former guard had used them as much as they'd used him. Kylo wondered if he should tell Hux about what he'd read while skimming the surface of Mir’s thoughts, about the suggestion there that Mir had always planned to come to The Citadel as soon as Hux had approached him about the escape plan, that the time was close that he would disappear entirely now that they are there. 

He decided not to. It wasn't of any concern to him, and Hux could deal with that however he wanted to when the time came. Kylo had far more important matters on his mind, such as the procurement of a ship that would take him further, and finding out where it was that his father was being held. 

Steps sounded in the corridor outside the room.

“Come with me,” Hux hissed as he passed by the sleeper berth’s open door and headed for the airlock. 

Kylo didn't want to go with him, but following Hux was preferable to staying in the ship with Mir. He was so frightened of Kylo at that point that his panic crept in at the edges of Kylo’s awareness without Kylo needing to feel it out, and no matter how hard he tried he couldn't ignore it. It wouldn’t have bothered him quite so much if it didn’t waken his only anxiety. 

So he rose from where the bed he'd been sitting and followed Hux outside. It was more than a bit unexpected, Hux leaving the safety of the ship. Though he seemed as unaffected as ever, Kylo could feel his unease rise as they exited the ship and headed out of the docking bay. He kept to the shadows, glancing uneasily at others as they passed. Mir had been right in saying that most people at the Citadel avoided noticing each other - almost no one looked their way, and most kept together in tight groups. 

“Mir has arranged a meeting with the buyer at an exchange shop on this level,” Hux said as he led the way towards the main entrance. His step was quick and he looked horribly uneasy at being out from within the safety of the ship.

“You don’t trust him,” Kylo said quietly, looking at Hux from the corner of his eye, “and you left him alone on the ship?”

“He doesn’t want the ship,” Hux answered tensely. His limp became more apparent when he got nervous, Kylo noted. 

He wondered if he had any tells such as that, now. 

“Do you have  _ any _ idea where you’re going?” Hux asked. They’d left the bay and entered the main floor of the citadel. Multiple rows of massive floodlights hung from the ceiling above them, but many were either broken or dimmed from age and the lighting was questionable. Hux kept them in the shadows, far from prying eyes. Kylo couldn’t understand why he bothered, he doubted that anyone could recognize them anymore. They’d changed out of their drab prison garb once on the new ship, putting on mismatched clothes that the Rodian’s crew had left aboard. No matter how how straight-backed Hux’s walk would be no one would mistake him for a former General of the First Order dressed in stained gray slacks and bulky khaki pilot jacket. 

“West.” Kylo responded, refusing to admit he had no idea where to go on from this point. 

“If you want help you’ll have to do better than pulling a random direction out of your arse,” Hux snorted.

“What if I don’t want help?” Kylo responded.

Hux stayed quiet. When he spoke again, finally, there was a chill edge to his voice.

“The exchange shop is at the end of this street,” Hux said. Kylo could see it ahead of them, a large shop front decked with flickering illuminated signs. A steady stream of clients of all species headed in and out through the front doors. “The buyer has arranged for a one on one pick up there, so hang back a bit.”

Kylo nodded, and began to lag behind as they neared. He kept his attention on Hux, assuming that the other man only grow more agitated as they approached the crowd in front of the shop. Touching on Hux’s thoughts, he was surprised to find that it was quite the opposite. Hux felt confident with Kylo backing him up, he felt  _ safe _ . In all honestly it felt awkward to Kylo - it was quite a difference from their days on the Finalizer, where his feelings ranged rather towards irritated and resigned or just plain frustrated whenever Kylo was around. Kylo wasn't sure when that change had happened, sometime towards the last month's of the war? He had an idea why, though he preferred not to dwell on it.

Instead he focused on his surroundings, skimming the thoughts of the people he passed to gauge the threat level. Given a clear purpose to focus on was a welcome change, and he let himself detach from the heavy thoughts of previous days, thoughts of escape, of saving his father. While there were few people in the streets, there was a mass congregated within several yards around the exchange shop door. There were plenty of minds to scan, so many emotions swirling all around him. Some of those he passed opened easily to his gentle probing, revealing themselves easily. There was little to be worried about, as they all seemed focused on their own problems; everyone seemed to believe they'd either been swindled, or that they'd overpaid. Hux moved ahead, threading among the crowd at the door to enter, and Kylo hung back as asked, following his progress with his senses instead. If he were honest with himself, he'd admit that he was slightly concerned about Hux heading in alone. He wasn't quite sure how much of Hux’s hyperawareness was from the stresses of the recent days, and how much of it was from somewhere deeper, but it was uncharacteristic of him either way. What he could read of Hux’s mind was slightly reassuring - though agitated he was fully in control of himself. Kylo really shouldn’t have expected anything less of him.

Deciding that he'd held back long enough, Kylo headed for the door finally. A large group of roughly dressed human exited the door as he walked up, and he stepped aside to avoid being trampled, scanning their thoughts as he did so. None of them were thinking anything interesting, as far as he could tell, and he moved to head in when a sudden stray thought caught his attention

_...almost as bad as those damn chimneys... _

An image, grainy and unwillingly remembered by the one who thought it, reached him in combination with the words: Dusty purple ground under a harsh and unforgiving sun, and hills of black and blue shining with painful brilliance beyond. Kylo jerked to a stop midway through the door. An aquatic creature behind him croaked in protest, shoving him with a spongy and moist arm, but he ignored it, casting around with single-minded purpose. One of the humans that had just left, he realized, and he shoved the amphibian out of his way and dashed back out onto the street. 

The humans were walking in a loose pack a few yards down the way. They looked haggard, their clothes dirty and tattered, horribly mismatched, and the blasters at their side dirty and rusted. They were obviously an inexperienced group, as a few of them were talking too loudly and cheerfully about their payout. Already a couple of figures had begun to shadow them, keeping to recesses among the various buildings and crude walls. Kylo hurried after the group, keeping to the shadows himself. He could read the thoughts that sat at the forefront of their minds easily enough, but he needed to scan deeper to find what he needed, needed to feel out who held that memory he’d snagged.

Thoughts became easier to pinpoint as he neared. The men at the back had nothing on their mind but money and drinking, a woman at the front was focused on actually trying to keep track of who held the credit chip, and one man lagging towards the back was... was anxious, Kylo could feel that he found the dim lighting uncomfortable, reminiscent of something horrible. Drawing closer, Kylo could see odd shaped scars around the man’s neck, ruddy bumps standing out against his pale skin. Reaching out with the Force, he touched the man’s mind and tapped into a wordless stream of nervousness, anxious near-thoughts bumping around inside the man’s head.

It was him. It had to be him. Kylo waited for them to near a gap between buildings, then focused on the Force.. He'd always been able to use the Force with precision when he actually put his mind to it, and he did so just then. Reaching out a tendril, he grabbed the loose end if one of the man's bootlaces and pulled hard, tripping him neatly. Most of the group continued on, though one stopped to help.

“I'm fine, my fucking shoelace came undone. I'll catch up to you.”

The man hunched down over his boot as the other left, and Kylo stepped up to him quietly, keeping an eye on the group as it headed on. No one turned back to look, and the man didn't seem to notice him until Kylo was practically on top of him.

“Hey, who-who're you?” The man stuttered, rising to his feet sharply. He was a good six inches shorter than Kylo and looked up at him with anxious eyes.

“You have information I need,” Kylo said coolly, glancing around. The shadowy figures had left after the main group and while a few people were on the street, none were paying attention to him or the man.

“Look I don't know wha-”

Kylo grabbed the man by the collar of his worn jacket and yanked him bodily into the gap between the shops. It felt good, using his physical strength, to find that thanks to his self-imposed routines during his time locked away he hadn't lost much of it. He threw the man against one of the walls and stared him down.

“Where is it, the planet you were on,” Kylo said, trying to keep his voice steady.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” The man said hastily, backed up against the wall. HIs eyes were wide, panicked, his hands scrabbling against the wall he was pressed against.

“The planet with the cylinders… The chimneys,” Kylo snapped. The man shuddered at the word, and Kylo continued, “The blue and black hills, where is it?”

“No, n-no,” The man shook, avoiding looking at Kylo. “I don't.. I don't know what you're talking about, please.”

He lied. Kylie could feel it, but scanning the man's thoughts did nothing but bring up more images of dusty purple ground underfoot, black and blue hills growing and shrinking. Looking up at something large and hulking and dark, backlit by the noon sun. Chains, and darkness. Nothing concrete, abstract fear and anxiety and panic.

Kylo gritted his teeth, scowling at the useless waste of flesh before him.

“I was hoping you'd tell me willingly,” He hissed through gritted teeth. “But you leave me no choice.”

The man whimpered, and in desperation attempted to make a dash for it. Kylo pulled him back with the Force, slammed him back against the wall again. No words escaped the man this time, but a formless moan of terror escaped his lips. 

“Now, you  _ will _ show me,” Kylo said,, and cupped his hand to the man's temple. The man’s wordless moan turned into a wordless scream as Kylo tore into his mind, carelessly ripping through any memories that were useless to him. The man struggled, shrieked, beneath the power of the Force, but Kylo pressed forward, searching for anything that might help point the way to his father.

Stars in the dark moonless sky, he could see them clearer now, and the sun, large and white and tinged with blue. He could see the man escaping from a field of metal cylinders - cells, for the… the workers? No, the slaves, multitudes of them. The man was one of  _ so many _ , forced to chip away at the hard and unyielding faces of the two toned hills, mining… the man didn’t know what they mined. And  _ THEY,  _ they oversaw all - who  _ were _ they? No matter, Kylo passed that, more concerned with finding  _ where _ the planet was. He’d deal with the rest later. 

His breath was ragged in his throat, but it felt distant. His head had begun to sting again, pulsing pangs, but he pushed it away from him, focused on pulling apart the mind before him. His body shook, the  _ pain was coming _ yet he pressed on, undeterred - the man had escaped, somehow.  _ Somehow _ . 

The man, he’d ended up on Bakura before joining this group of small time smugglers - but how did he get there? And from where? Kylo growled in wordless frustration. The man screeched in pain. From  _ where _ ? 

And then, a glimpse. Half a glimpse really. A second or two shot of the controls of a very old and very battered ship, and on the the front screen a hyperspace jump plotted out. He could see it. He could… he replayed it,  _ over and over and over _ ... He could find it now…

Kylo released the man, staggering back. His head ached dangerously, the pangs resounding within his skull, and he reeled with the sudden awareness of pain. He hadn't noticed it rising, hadn't noticed anything really, so deeply had he thrust himself into the other man’s mind. He took a step back, then another, nearly falling as he leaned against the wall at his back. His body didn't feel weary, nor did his mind, but the pain was sending body-wracking shudders through out him, and it was threatening to grow further, piercing at his temples. He wasn’t going to pass out, he told himself, clenching his fists and struggling to to fight down the pain. 

At his feet the man lay slumped, moaning and sobbing. 

“What is  _ this _ ?”

Hux’s voice was icy, too controlled. Kylo looked towards the street to find Hux eyeing him with a cold look of disapproval.

“He had information I needed,” Kylo gasped, straightening up. Hux scowled down at the man as if he were a load of trash that someone had forgotten to dispose of.

“Did you get it?” He asked irritably, and Kylo nodded. “Good.”

Hux lifted his blaster and shot the man in the head. His aim was impeccable. At that close a distance the force of the blast split the man’s head open like an overripe melon. Kylo stared down at the bits of gore that dotted the toes of his boots. 

“Let’s go,” Hux put the blaster back in its holster and walked off. Kylo followed. In his head he was repeating that memory, retracing the track across the starmap. He could plot it out, once they returned to the ship. He was so close now.

“You will take the ship,” Hux said suddenly.  

“I…” Kylo paused, puzzled. “I know where we should go…”

“ _ You _ ,” Hux reiterated firmly. Kylo looked at him, the emphasis not lost on him. Hux had seemed like he’d wanted to help earlier, had he changed his mind? Hux wasn’t elaborating. Kylo frowned, and attempted to scan his thoughts to find out.

“Stop that,” Hux snapped, glaring at him. His force of will was strong as ever in regards to mind reading, blocking Kylo’s first attempt, though Kylo knew he could easily break through if he tried. Hux looked disapproving, again, “If you want to know what I’m thinking, then use your words. You’re not mute.”

Kylo frowned, and purposely pushed into Hux’s thoughts again. The other man came to a sharp stop and faced him. Hux was doing a decent job with redirecting his thoughts, mostly to ideas of how idiotic and annoying and frustrating Kylo was. Kylo was tempted to force his way deeper, and even the stabs of pain in his head weren’t enough to temper his impulse.

“Go ahead then, do it.” Hux said, and though his tone was cool there was a sharp edge to it. “Weren’t you about to keel over back there in the alleyway? I assume it was from the pain, and I imagine it hasn’t faded all that much yet. So go on, let’s see what happens first: you find what you’re looking for among my thoughts, or you pass out from the excruciating pain brought on by your own stupidity. It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Shut up,” Kylo snapped, drawing his mind back from Hux’s. The pain _was_ pulsing dangerously in his head. “What changed your mind?”  
“I hadn’t made up my mind in the first place,” Hux said, starting down the street again. Kylo followed in step, no longer inclined to push his way into Hux’s thoughts. So Hux didn’t want to come along, that was fine. Kylo didn’t need him, after all. And if he felt a little anxious about it, it was only because it had been a long time since he’d been alone. Despite himself he’d gotten used to having others around.

“Very well,” Kylo said, unable to keep a hint of anger from his voice. They were nearing the docking bay doors. “What about Mir?”  
“Mir,” Hux sneered,”Is no doubt long gone by now.”

Kylo sensed his irritation, tinged with disappointment, without needing to feel for it.

Hux slowed his pace as they neared the bay doors, finally coming to a stop just outside them. Kylo stopped as well, though he refused to look at the other man. He could sense that Hux was on the edge of saying something. A fond farewell? That would be beyond ridiculous. Kylo looked at Hux finally, unwilling to waste any more time.

“Spit it out then,” He growled. He couldn’t help but notice how Hux was looking at him, uncertainly. It was an alien look on him, that animal wariness, and it only irritated Kylo all the more.

Hux didn’t trust him.

The realization hit him harder than he would’ve expected it to. Hux had never really trusted him before, after all. No, that was not quite right. He may have been loathe to share information with Kylo, may not have trusted him not to go behind his back and do things his own way, but that was something different. This distrust, Kylo could feel it bordering on fear. Maybe he shouldn’t have found it surprising, not after the betrayal at the end of the war, but he’d somehow never considered that he himself was on the list of untrustworthy people that Hux had assembled in his own mind.

“I… overheard something interesting back there,” Hux said suddenly, hesitantly, his voice low. 

“What was it?” Kylo asked, irked that Hux trusted him so little that he didn’t tell him right away, that he still was unsure whether to tell Kylo what he’d learned. He tried to keep the irritation out of his voice, but failed horribly. 

“A deal was being made, to deliver a load of weaponry to an outpost near Gree,” Hux said, “An outpost of supposed mercenaries led by a… rather imposing tall woman in a rigidly militaristic fashion.”

“Is that what you heard?” Kylo asked. He didn’t need to ask who this mystery woman could possibly be.

“Not those words exactly, but why be needlessly vulgar,” Hux’s lips quirked into a grin. 

“And how will you get there without a ship?” Kylo asked, feeling the anxiety creep back up on him. Hux would leave, and he’d be alone again. He’d be alone, and so would Hux. That was a new thought, that Hux would be on his own. Somehow Kylo found it unwelcome. Hux probably preferred it, however, Kylo thought, preferred relying on no one but himself, preferred being around others who didn’t know him, didn’t know how to use him. 

“I have enough credits to buy passage,” Hux said, “Even after the charge to refuel the ship.”

He eyed Kylo curiously then, as if he could sense Kylo’s unease.

“I know how to handle myself, Ren,” Hux said, and he looked somewhat amused. “I think you’ve forgotten that.”

“I haven’t forgotten anything,” Kylo snapped back. He shot Hux a dark look. “Go then.”

Kylo turned away and started heading for ship. Hux had planned to split apart, Kylo couldn’t help but think, no matter how Hux had acted, he’d always planned to leave. The thought was distressing. It shouldn’t have been, just as Hux’s distrust of him shouldn’t have been surprising. When had they ever trusted each other? When had they ever  _ not _ used each other? He could tell that despite all that, Hux had expected something different in their parting. He could feel it in the other man’s thoughts as he left, regret could it be? A mental distaste for how the situation played out. Hux had wanted this moment to go differently, but Kylo was never one to give others what they wanted.

Even so, he expected Hux to stop him, and he would’ve given him a few more moments, if only to ease his own anxiety at the thought that he’d soon be alone again. Hux didn’t, and Kylo headed onwards without looking back.

 

___

 

All the lights on the ship were on. Kylo was sure of it because he checked them all twice, even the tiny lights in the back of the supply hatches. Kylo sat at the control panel, legs folded awkwardly, eyes fixed on the streak of stars outside the windows. The ship was oppressively empty behind him, and the silence of it pressed painfully on his mind.

He was close now, he reminded himself for the hundredth time since he'd gotten on the ship. His father was growing nearer. At least, the planet he was on grew nearer. He’d thought about meditating, reaching out with his senses along the pathways of the Force to search for his father’s familiar presence. Each time he'd settled down to it, however, his mind balked at it. He couldn't bring himself to do it. He couldn't help but think -

_ What if he'd been wrong? _

He shook his head, trying to rid himself of those doubts. If his dream hadn't been touching on his father, why would the hills and the land he saw in the dreams match so well with what he'd seen in the memories of the man at the Citadel?

His father was alive. How, Kylo couldn't even begin to guess, but he was. 

A control on the ship’s console began flashing. He pulled up the route and found the ship positioned to exit hyperspace. Closing the route again, he eagerly watched as the ship transitioned back to realspace, searching for the planet he was headed for.

The sun at the center of the system he entered blazed into sight as soon as the ship entered realspace, an impossibly bright white mass at one corner of the windows. He had to look away from it, squinting to see past the glare it created. Turning to the controls, he isolated the side of the window facing the sun and adjusted the tinting on it until he could see without spots in his eyes. The planetary system stretched before him, the planets lit clearly by the superbright sun. There were four planets in the system, one in an orbit so near the sun it only showed as a dark spot in front of the sun’s brilliance. Two planets orbited near each other farther out, icy and surrounded by natural satellites. The planet he was looking for was on the cusp of just right, almost too near the sun to be habitable. 

Kylo steered for it, and watched intently as the planet grew in view. It was a large planet, with vast swathes of dark ground cut through with rivers and lakes of bright green. The poles were covered in thick, swirling clouds, while the rest of the planet was nearly cloudless, only a spare few wisps tearing away from the poles. Kylo set the ship’s sensors to work, and soon they were returning information - most of the planet was uninhabitated, at least on the surface, however as he neared the sensors began picking up a settlement on the night side of the planet.

That had to be it. What had his father said,  _ they _ leave at night? Kylo remembered that hulking form from the man’s memories, and though he had little fear that he’d be able to take on whoever it was keeping the slaves, he found himself glad to think that he wouldn’t need to toe the threshold of his Force powers again so soon after the last time.

Setting the ship on its course towards the planet, he went in back to prepare for the landing. He had no idea what to expect once on the ground, and wasn’t sure what to take with him. He’d prefer to get in and get out as quickly as possible, but depending on the state his father was in that would either be easy or difficult. He took two blasters and slung their holsters across his shoulders. He would’ve preferred his lightsaber, yes, but that had been taken from him. The memory was dangerous and full of venom; they’d had to rip it from his hands, even after they’d incapacitated him. They might as well had taken his arms… It had been a while since he’d thought of his lightsaber. He’d thought of it much during the first few weeks of his imprisonment, but as it had never done him any good he’d forced himself to forget. Now, remembering again, the ache sprang up inside him, the loss suddenly as sharp and real as it had been the moment it had been taken from him. 

They’d been through much together.

Frowning, he headed back to the bridge to take another look at the sensor readings. The ship was speedy, and nearing the final trajectory to break in through the atmosphere. Kylo turned the autopilot off and took the controls himself. It had been a while since he’d last piloted a ship, but he easily slipped back into the role. Clearing his mind, he focused on the controls and the ship itself, guiding it down in a rapid descent to an area just south of the settlement. He settled the ship on a relatively flat piece of ground, the landing kicking up large clouds of dust. 

Kylo exited the ship to find the world outside a mesmerizing blend of dark and glitter, the stars above reflecting in odd streaks of reflective material in the ground and in the hills that rose before him. The air was chilly, much colder than he’d expected, and he shuddered as he set off. Tentatively, he sent out his senses towards the settlement. The multitude of presences he was met with was staggering for such an out of the way world - hundreds upon hundreds, spread across a valley seated directly between three high ridges. Kylo headed at a steady pace towards the valley, finding the trek exhilarating, freeing. He hadn’t been allowed much at all at the prison, banned from almost all the facilities granted to the other inmates, and it had been ages since he’d been able to truly exert himself. The starry night sky spun above him; he found himself reaching the edges of the settlement much sooner than he’d expected. Taking the last rise of a low hill, he stopped at the crest to get his bearings. 

Before him was the field of cylinders. The holding cells. They were all crude, some old and battered, others new and still somewhat shiny. The starlight glinted off of them, setting the dark valley glittering almost like a mirror of the sky above. With no moon in the sky it was difficult to make out the layout before him, but the Force was not letting him down. Though he couldn’t quite see it, he  _ knew _ all the same how the alleyways wound between the cells. Surprisingly, he could find no evidence of a fence, of any sort of guard shacks. There were the cells, and nothing beside them. 

Cautiously, he headed down the side of the hill and approached the first cell. Once again, Kylo reached out with his senses to find where his father was. The amount of presences around him was throwing him off, or maybe it was the lack of practice, but as he headed through between the cells he felt a call from further in. A tug, right at the back of his mind. He headed past the first and second lines of cells and headed for the center of the settlement. Around him he could feel those inside the cells, some lay asleep, others moving restlessly about. Some cells held many, some held a few, but everywhere he could feel multitudes of various races and species trapped inside them. He paid them little attention other than a cursory sweep; his father’s presence grew stronger as he went, calling to him much more poignantly than before. He started to jog towards it, skirting around larger cells and casting about to find the proper direction.

Ahead of him, a cell began to glitter brighter in the darkness, like a beacon. Eagerly, he dashed up to it, finally close enough to confirm that yes, his father was there. His father was inside. His father…

Kylo slowed to a dead halt a few paces from the cell. His father. 

The last time he’d seen his father, he’d killed him. 

Or, at least attempted to, if his father was here alive then he hadn’t succeeded. 

Kylo took a step forward -

_ Finish what you’ve started _

-and jerked back, spun around, eyes widening as he struggled to take in his surroundings. The cold hiss still lingered in his mind, echoing around his skull, sending shivers down his spine. His breath came in gasps, the darkness was overpowering, but it was only his mind. It was only his mind. It couldn’t be… No, Rey had defeated Snoke, he was dead, Kylo had felt when his master died. It was only his mind, and  _ that _ was something he could fight. Getting himself under control once more, he turned back slowly to face the cell once more. Warily, he took a step towards it, waiting for that voice to return, but it didn’t, and his next step came more confidently. It was only his own unease, after all. Nothing more. And he would admit, that after having traveled across most of the galaxy, he stood in front of the cell with no idea in mind of how to face his father, how to explain the inevitable questions he would ask -

Why had he tried to kill him?

Why, now, did he try to save him?

Kylo wasn’t sure he had the answers himself. There was something deep inside of him, however, some nostalgia he hadn’t realized he still carried within him, that was eager to see his father again. That was waiting for that moment with bated breath. A low excitement bubbled beneath his skin. Kylo stepped up to the cell and placed a hand on its metal side. It was ice cold beneath his skin, made of something like ship metal. No, it was ship metal. As he focused on it, the whole of it came into view; the cylinder was made of pieces of ship metal, beaten and soldered into place. They, whoever they were that created this place and enslaved these people, must have scavenged from old ships or used ones that had been caught while obtaining new slaves, to create these holding cells. The walls were thick, unable to be broken through by an average person, and as far as Kylo could tell there were no doors on ground level. A large square window was cut into the roof of the structure, but it had a grate locked onto it, and Kylo could not feel any ladder or rope nearby. There would be no easy way of getting his father out. Or rather, there wouldn’t have been an easy way, except that he had the power of the Force to use, and having gotten so close to completing his journey he was becoming impatient. He could poke around more, find a way to get the window grate open and a line to let down, but that would take more time than he was willing to spend.

No, instead he felt with the Force for a piece of metal in the wall that seemed less secure than others, and got to work on it. It didn’t take all that long, really, once he truly focused. The various pieces of metal that made up the walls did not solder uniformly and the seams were weak. He pulled at the metal piece, and shortly it wrenched itself free, ripping apart from the other pieces with a loud screech. Kylo almost laughed; it had felt  _ easy _ , certainly easier than anything he’d done with the Force the past few days. Even the implant in his head wasn’t reacting, not yet anyhow. Happily, ecstatic with the flow of the Force, he pulled at another piece, then another, ripping them off as layers on an onion and discarding them haphazardly on the ground behind him. Voices had started up when the first piece came off, and Kylo could feel the rising agitation of those inside as he continued to rip a hole through the cell’s wall. 

Suddenly enough, the last piece came free, and facing him was a dark hole. Past it, he could feel the presences of a handful of different people… and his father. 

Should he enter? Should he stand outside and wait?

Now that the time had finally come he was once again doubtful, uncertain. The elation of pulling apart the cell wall drained away from him, leaving him cold in the chilled air. His father would have questions. He wouldn’t have answers. 

A figure stood at the hole suddenly. Kylo didn’t need to feel to know who it was; he took a step back, suddenly overwhelmed by what could happen. He took another step back, then another, his foot hitting one of the metal sheets he’d pulled off of the cell wall. The figure stepped out of the hole - his father - stepped into the open. The starlight was strong but dim but even so he could see his father’s eyes widen at the sight of him.

“Ben?” His father’s voice shook slightly, uncertain. It sounded weaker than in his dreams.

“I... I have a ship,” Kylo said, his heart beating so fast and loud he could barely hear himself. “We should go. Come on.”

He didn’t move. Neither did his father.

“You…” his father looked surprised. “You came here for  _ me _ ?”

“We have to go,” Kylo said, shrinking back from that gaze, too warm and too hopeful. “Come _on_.”  
Others were now exiting from behind his father, climbing out of the hole, humans and non-humans alike. They could do whatever they wanted, but Kylo wanted to be gone from the place. He was suddenly regretting it, regretting it all, escaping prison and coming here and saving his father, it was all suddenly too much for him. He should’ve stayed locked up, it was horrible and demeaning but he’d gotten used to it and it was _something_ and it was _familiar_ and that was so much better than the unknown he was standing before. 

“All right,” His father said, took a step towards him. He seemed as shocked and uncertain as Kylo felt. Kylo handed him a blaster, and wordlessly motioned for him to follow.

The other escaped slaves milled around uncertainly as they left; Kylo had thought they might take the chance to follow, to escape, but none seemed inclined to do so. Some even went back inside the cell. It was unsettling. Kylo focused on getting his father back to the ship instead of wondering on that, wondering if it had been anyone else opening that cell, if his father would’ve taken the chance to escape, or if he would’ve done the same as the others, lay back to sleep. 

Their going was slower than Kylo would’ve liked. His father had said  _ they _ left at night and Kylo could only assume that meant  _ they _ returned at dawn. He could’ve asked, but the trek was rough on the older man, and Kylo didn’t want to wear him out even more by talking. He eyed the rising color in the west, wondering if there would be any sign of the mysterious beings before they arrived. He would have preferred that to the possibility of actually having to talk to his father. Now that the man was with him, Kylo couldn’t help but feel a rise in uneasiness, as if that panicked beast in his mind had multiplied and there was now a pack of them waiting in those dark recesses for any sign of weakness. He would  _ not _ allow himself to break down in front of his father, he told himself firmly. It was a lie, and he knew it. All it needed was time, and the right catalyst.

The time wasn’t then, and the catalyst was not there. He would keep his head until they got to the ship at least, that much he was sure of. He paused often, allowing his father to keep up, but he rarely looked at him. He couldn’t. Once was enough, to see that disbelief in his eyes, the appreciation, the…

“We’re almost there,” Kylo said, turning towards his father. He’d sensed something ahead of them, like flies in a spider’s web the presences sent shudders across the Force and to him. He pulled out his blaster, and watched as his father readied his own. “There are presences near the ship.”

“Right,” his father replied, hefting the blaster. It was still strange to hear his voice, and so close at that. Kylo watched as the older man adjusted his grip on the blaster, waited for him to look certain about it before heading on.

They climbed the last low hill slowly, and crouched near the top. Looking over the rise, Kylo could see figures near his ship. They were hulking, oddly shaped creatures, and in the near-morning light he could make out only some of their features. Something like heads, insect-shaped with multitudes of faceted eyes. Their bodies made up most of their bulk, though he was unable to see their form beneath the masses of dark cloaks they were. They moved on four insect-like legs, and had four arms as well, two thin and delicate looking with fine fingers, and two brutish and thick ending in scorpion’s claws.

“Bastards,” Han - his father - said. Kylo shuddered at the sudden shot of familiarity.

“B...blasters should work, right?” Kylo asked. Why was he uncertain? Why was he there?  _ What was he doing there? _

“They should,” Han replied, taking aim. “I’ll take the one on the right, you take the other one. Aim for one of the larger eyes, they’re more sensitive than the others.”

Kylo nodded, relieved to be able to focus on something once more. The beasts in his mind growled softly, but he ignored them and aimed the blaster. Han shot first; The bolt caught the creature in one of its large eyes, and it spun around shrieking. The other creature faced the hill, and with surprising speed and dexterity dashed towards its, pulling a staff-shaped weapon out from under its cloaks. Kylo shot at it, multiple times, knocking it back a few steps and sending it rolling onto the ground. Han was less impulsive with his shots, taking aim and waiting for the first creature to turn back to them before shooting it in the face again. It staggered but neither turned nor fell, and Han followed up with a volley of shots that sent it crashing to the ground. 

The second creature had rolled over under the assault from Kylo’s weapon, and he paused then, cursing, as it seemed that their back was better armored than their head or front. It stumbled to its feet after a moment, then whipped around to face them. Kylo could feel the weapon in the creature’s hands about to discharge, and he ducked behind the rise of the hill, pulling his father down with him. The top of the hill shook as the weapon’s blast hit it, glowing fissures spreading down from the tip through the hardened stone. 

“It’s coming up the hill,” Kylo said to Han. 

“Around the sides then, come on,” Han said, shoving him towards the bottom.

“No,” Kylo said, “I can stop the weapon blast, and you shoot it down. We can’t have it alerting any others to follow us.”

Han looked uncertain, but there was no time to argue. Kylo turned back to face the top of the hill, and Han readied his blaster.

The creature appeared over the rise. For a split second Kylo couldn’t remember, was he seeing this? Was he in the memories of that ragged man on Bespin again? He got his wits about him just in time, throwing a hand up as the creature discharged its staff-shaped weapon again. The blast was both hotter and stronger than a blaster bolt, more concentrated, and Kylo struggled at the beginning to contain it. The web he cast around it with the Force shuddered as the blast’s energy pushed against it, but Kylo would not let it break. It wasn’t a matter of strength, it was a matter of  _ focus _ , and if he needed to do nothing but focus on that blast that was what he would do. For that first second that was what he did, his mind nothing but the force and the blast, the web holding it back. Once he contained it, however, he found it easier to draw back, to refocus part of his senses on the world again.

His father was blasting away, and the creature was shrieking in pain. In a few more moments it was over. 

“Come on,” Han - his - father - said, and touched a hand to his shoulder. “There’ll be more coming now that it’s morning. Let’s go.”

Kylo nodded, and followed him around the base of the hill, holding the blast back until they got to the far side. The sound of cracking stone reached them once the blast tore free and collided with the ground, and Han jerked to look back, eyeing the hill warily.

The ship waited silently for them to approach. Kylo could sense another parked across the other hill, a smaller craft most likely used for short distances. He couldn’t feel any more of the creatures around, and hopefully the ones that were on their way in would not notice their ship leaving. Walking up to his ship, he reached out to touch the inside panel at the airlock and lower the ramp. He motioned for his father to enter first, then followed him inside, and the ramp pulled up behind them.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We get deeper in, and we get SOMEWHERE - and you all get some back information finally.
> 
> I really hope you enjoy. If you have any questions or cirtiques please send them my way!
> 
> You can also find me on tumblr at itsdetachable.tumblr.com , and I tag all story things with "A Little Unsteady Fic"

Kylo focused on the controls as soon as they were on the ship. He waited only long enough for his father to seat himself in one of the chairs on the bridge before he took off and pointed the ship on a trajectory towards space. Pings on the radar showed that other small ships were landing near the slave settlement. A couple turned towards them, but Kylo pushed the ship’s thrusters to max and shot away from them, leaving the smaller crafts behind.

They should plot a course, get into hyperspace, but where? Kylo wasn’t sure. He  _ should _ point the ship at D’Qar, get his father back to his mother, and…

His mind trailed off after that. The fitful beasts at the back of his mind growled appreciatively.

“Thank you,” His father said. His voice was low and slightly gruff, as always. 

Kylo looked at him, half-expecting his father to disappear before his eyes, reveal himself to be some sort of Force-dream, reveal this whole experience to be some pain-induced hallucination. He was going to wake up, back in the prison, trapped once again in the darkness of solitary confinement with nothing but his thoughts and the lingering pangs in his brain and arms. His arms - for the first time since he’d left Bespin they jolted with pain. It was more imagined, remembered, than actual. What had been left in the bacta vial had been enough to heal the worst of the damage, and since leaving Takodana they’d steadily healed until only the surface skin remained raw. 

Kylo flexed his fingers, bringing  _ real, _ unimagined pain to his arms, a light caress of burning across what was rapidly becoming scars. He couldn’t look away from his father, and despite himself he saw him, not as the figure from his memories but the real person before him. Old, worn, his hair longer than when he’d last seen him, a rough beard grown shaggy on his face. His clothes weren’t his, they were too big and hung on his frame loosely, ragged at the edges. His skin was burned-tan, wrinkled by wind and sun. Was he as weather-beaten on the inside as he was on the outside? Kylo shrank from the thought, not even daring to think about touching his father’s mind. 

Maybe his father was expecting a response. Maybe he wasn’t. But he seemed to be taking the moment of silence to look at Kylo as well, eyeing him curiously, as if unable to recognize him. Kylo refused to shrink from his gaze, though he knew all too well what he saw; hair short and ragged from the bi-monthly haircuts the prison guards had forced on him, skin too pale, the circles under his eyes too dark, all combined with the worn and poorly fitting clothes salvaged from the Rodian’s closets… Hux had told him that he’d gotten a feral look to him in prison, and Kylo could tell Han saw that as the older man’s eyes grew soft with worry.

“What's wrong with your eye?” His father asked finally, sounding concerned.

“Nothing,” Kylo snapped back, refusing to look away. He hadn’t thought it would be so apparent, no one at the prison, other than Hux, had ever mentioned it, not after the doctors in the med bay who’d treated him after the… the… He bristled, keeping the memory from resurfacing through sheer force of will. “Nothing is wrong with it. It's fine.”

Han - he was rapidly becoming comfortable with allowing his father’s name to come to mind, now that the man was in front of him, alive - did not look convinced, but he didn’t press the issue. Was it that odd, Kylo thought, did the dilated pupil stand out so much? He’d mostly forgotten about it, unless he looked in a mirror and noticed it. He’d learned to use tiny levels of the Force to assist with the blurred vision and the light sensitivity, so much so that it had become automatic. Perhaps doing so, constantly, was affecting the implant’s threshold. Maybe if he were to stop, he’d be able to raise it, use  _ more _ of the Force than he’d been able to up to this point. He tried to weigh the benefits of each, desperately leaning towards the greater usage of the Force, but his mind couldn’t quite focus on the question.

“The war?” Han ventured a question. 

“It’s over,” Kylo responded flatly. “It ended a… a while ago.”  
“A while?” Han asked. He was looking for a better answer, something to orient himself by. Kylo couldn’t give it to him.

“Yes,” Kylo responded, then asked his own question, quickly before his father could come up with another, “How did you survive?”

Han looked weary then, wearier than he had a moment before. He seemed to consider an answer, but let it go again, and only shrugged.

“I tried to find you,” Kylo said, starting slowly but then his word came in a rush, falling from his lips faster than he could stop them, “I shouldn’t have, I  _ didn’t want to _ but I did… I.. I couldn’t, you were  _ nowhere _ .”

Han looked taken aback, his eyes glistened suddenly, and he rubbed a finger along the bridge of his nose, looking away a moment before turning his eyes back to Kylo.

“I really don’t know,” He said in a broken voice. “I… fell, everything went black, and then there I was, waking up in a stasis chamber on an unknown ship…” he chuckled lightly, “Well, it wouldn’t have been the first time, but.. That was the whole of it. These insect things had a whole freighter of slaves they’d picked up in all sorts of places, and they kept us all in stasis until we got to that planet of theirs. I wasn’t the only one they’d picked up from Starkiller, there were Stormtroopers there too, and resistance pilots…”

A sweep after the base blew up? Kylo couldn’t understand how it’d been done without drawing the notice of the First Order, and his brain was in no state to even try to comprehend it. 

“What about you?” Han asked, watching him, “What happened, after the war?”

Kylo shied away, mentally at least. He turned his eyes back to the vastness of space outside the window, the deep darkness of it, but then that seemed almost more overwhelming than his father’s question. He turned back to Han uneasily.

“Prison.” He said simply. Han looked surprised.

“You were captured?” He didn’t seem to believe it.

“Yes.” Kylo didn’t want to remember those days, those hours, those moments.

“How?” Han asked. It was an honest question, it had that damn  _ parental _ tone, he wasn’t asking about the war, he wasn’t asking about anything but Kylo and how he survived it all. Kylo had very nearly erased him from existence and still,  _ still _ , he granted him concern.

“The… Resistance discovered Snoke’s planet, and planned an attack on it,” Kylo said haltingly, bracing himself for the flood of memories. He’d tucked it away, deep in his mind, far away from where he could touch on it accidentally, but now that he began speaking of it he found it couldn’t stop. The words flowed from him, like blood from a fresh wound, “I was already there when the Finalizer came to support the planetary defenses. Maybe it would have been enough, having the Finalizer there, but… defectors among the Stormtroopers had contacted the Resistance, and transferred the defense plans to them. Most of them were killed or captured before they’d escaped, but by then the Resistance fighters had already arrived.” 

Kylo paused, unable to keep the memories at bay any longer, the shadows of Resistance X-Wings flying across desert dunes darkening his mind, “The Finalizer was too massive for their ships to take down, not with the masses of Tie Fighters to fight, and it… it almost seemed we’d beat them back-”

It wasn’t his memory now, it was doubled, and because of it magnified in its impact; one of the Petty Officers, arguing on deck with Hux, viciously - Phasma attempting to get the situation under control as crew members wavered at their posts, the officer backed by other crew members, a revolt at the most crucial of moments. The Petty Officer shutting down the Finalizer’s shields, crew members scrambling to raise them again as the officer’s backers fired on them, blaster bolts filling the air with crackling heat and debris -

“There was a revolt,” Kylo said simply, unable to put words to the scenes that replayed in his head, unwilling to let the anger within him rise to uncontrollable levels - traitors, cowards, all of them - “The Finalizer’s shields went down, the Resistance boarded it and captured the General and several other crew members. With the Finalizer disabled, they were able to launch a much more dedicated attack on the planet itself.”

Blaster bolts and fires across the dunes. Dead bodies scattered among wreckage. The unerring feeling that he was missing something, that he was missing  _ everything _ , that he couldn’t find a direction where he wasn’t faced by utter annihilation - everything was  _ over. _

He finished as simply as he’d begun, “Rey killed Snoke… I was captured. The war ended.”

The war ended for some, at least. 

“But, how did they capture  _ you _ ?” Han seemed unable to process the idea.

Reaching the inner chambers as Rey killed Snoke with a final stroke, the sudden loss of his master’s touch on him throwing him, sending him reeling. The anger, the fury, he had a  _ path _ he had  _ direction _ and she’d taken it from him, taken it all - the battle with Rey afterwards, feeling the loss of his purpose as if it were a mortal wound, leaking his insides across the floor along with the blood of his wounds. He’d never been able to focus, in a rage, never been able to do more than self-destruct, and it was no more true than then. Than then…

“They  _ captured _ me,” Kylo snapped, harsh and pained, realizing he’d left the question hanging in the air far longer than he should have. “They held a trial, they were going to execute us but some bleeding hearts decided there’d been  _ too much bloodshed _ , so they imprisoned us all. Locked us up.”

A condensed version, omitting facts. Han seemed aware of it, looked inclined to ask again, but he was a sharper man than that. He kept his questions to himself for the moment, and Kylo appreciated the chance to slow his whirlwind thoughts, to refocus on what was before him.

He needed to return his father to the Resistance, to his mother. Obviously. 

“I’ll be taking you to Naboo,” He said, somewhat calmer than before, “There is a Resistance squadron deployed there that can take you back to D’Qar.”

“Naboo?” Han didn’t sound too enthusiastic about the idea. “Can’t we just go straight to D’Qar?”  
“No!” Kylo, “Not D’Qar. Naboo.”

“Sorry,” Han sounded regretful. He motioned to his head, “I’m still catching up…” 

Kylo eyed him distrustfully, not entirely believing it. Hadn’t Han wanted to take him home before? Wouldn’t he try to again?

“Was that where you… where they held you? On D’Qar?” Han asked tentatively, watching Kylo.

“No.” Kylo said shortly. 

“Then are you sure you can’t-”

“NO!” Kylo spun back to face him, furious. “I am NOT going back!”  
Han didn’t shrink from his glare, merely held his hands up in silent surrender. Kylo growled and turned back to the controls, plugging in the coordinates for Naboo angrily.

“Do you need anything?” He asked, tone harsh and demanding. “Food? Water? New clothes? There are supplies in back.”

“I’ll go take a look,” Han said, easing himself up out of the seat.

“Do you need help?” Kylo chewed through the words.

“No, I think I’ll manage,” Han replied as he made his way down the corridor. Kylo could feel him as he headed back, slowly and wearily. Was he injured? Or was he just overworked? Kylo could only wonder, but he refused to ask. His father wouldn’t admit it, anyway, not unless it was life threatening. Kylo busied himself with the controls for a while, but there was over eight hours of hyperspace flight before them, and there was no way he could ignore Han’s presence for the entire duration. 

He tried to. It didn’t last long. 

Kylo wandered aimlessly to the back little more than an hour later, pausing at the entrance to the common area in back. There was a low table bolted to the floor in front of the room’s single bench built into the wall, and Han was sitting at it, picking at a some food on a plate, an empty rations packet laying beside it. He looked up as Kylo walked up, eyeing him, but said nothing. He’d found new clothes, and looked like he’d taken a shower. His beard was shaved and his hair was cleaner, if not shorter.   
Kylo hovered at the threshold, unsure of what it was he actually wanted. The thought of answering questions made him nauseous, but even the threat of questions couldn’t keep him from seeking his father out. There’d been a time when he would’ve wanted nothing more than to be rid of him, be rid of both his parents, have them both gone so far he wouldn’t have to think of them ever again. Yet there he was, lurking at the entrance to the common area, unable to pull away from the magnetism his father seemed to be putting out. 

“You going to come in or are you just going to stand there and glower at me?” Han asked, raising an eyebrow.

Familiar, as if nothing had changed. Kylo found that terrible for some reason. He entered however, and sat at the far edge of the bench. Han motioned at the plate, wordlessly offering the half of the roll still left. Kylo eyed it, then eyed Han, and shook his head. Han shrugged, and ripped another piece off for himself. They sat in silence, the ship’s near imperceptible hum the only sound around them.

Kylo found himself running his fingers along the wrinkles of his pants. He forced himself to stop, it was an old habit he’d thought he’d gotten rid of. Maybe it was this proximity to his father, to his past, that brought it back. The whole of it hung over him, prepared to drop at the slightest touch. He no longer found it as frightening, as he had once, and that in itself made him feel odd, suspicious. He didn’t… he didn’t want it, didn’t want the familiarity; attachments were only an inconvenience, only limiting. Hadn’t the Jedis taught that? Hadn’t Snoke insisted on that separation? Hadn’t it served him we-  _ had it served him _ \- well?

Kylo found himself clutching fists in the fabric of his pants, his heart beating wildly in his chest. He glanced at Han, found his father looking around.

“This is an interesting ship,” Han said, “Looks like it was built off of a courier freighter.”

“It belonged to a Rodian,” Kylo said. Han snorted.

“Past tense, huh?” He said, glancing at Kylo with a smirk. It sent a warm pang through him; he’d forgotten, that his father wasn’t quite as engrossed in the Light as the rest of his family. 

“Why…” Han started suddenly, voice suddenly sharp, not like a knife but like accidentally broken glass, as if he himself had been unaware he was about to speak. He cleared his throat, then began again, his voice more controlled, “Why did you… you know, rescue me…”

Kylo turned the thought over in his head. Why? 

“I… I dreamed you were alive,” Kylo said, “I decided that I would get you out of wherever you were being held.”

Han nodded as if that was what he’d been expecting to hear, although Kylo could sense him relaxing in a way he hadn’t before.

“You know,” Han said with a light, relieved laugh, “For a second back there I thought… well, you know, I thought you’d come to finish me off.”

_ Finish what you started _

The echo hissed through Kylo’s mind again. He refused to allow it to aggravate him, ignored it as well as he could, though just the fact that it was there,  _ again _ , was enough to send cold chills down his spine.

“Back, back then I di-” Kylo found his words came haltingly, they were hard to push out of his throat, “I did what I  _ thought _ I must. I didn’t… I _ had to _ …”

He turned to Han, “Attachment isn’t right for a Force user, it has no benefits, only  _ negatives _ , it… it detracts…”

“No, no, that’s wrong,” Han said sternly, matter-of-factly, as if it what he were saying was the most obvious thing in the galaxy. “That’s a bad line of thinking.”

“Attachments are what failed Grandfather,” Kylo pressed on breathlessly, leaning towards Han, desperate to make his father understand, “They are what made him turn from the Light, and they are what failed him at the end, kept him from achieving the true glory of the Dark. Attachments have always been… been detriment-”

“That’s wrong,” Han interjected again, almost angrily this time. “That way of thinking is  _ wrong _ .”

“The Jedi teach-”

“The Jedi were wrong. Are wrong,” Han cut in before Kylo could get started again. “That Snoke? He was wrong too -and yes, so was Luke.”  
“Wrong,” Kylo asked shakily, unwilling to lose grasp of the few remaining tendrils of his training. He had the oddest sensation that without it, he’d disappear. “All… all of them?”

“You know it, Ben,” Han said, “That was why the training didn’t sit right with you, wasn’t it? Don’t you remember?”

Kylo pulled away a bit, confused and shaken. He shook his head, unwilling to accept it, unwilling to sift through years of memories to find what Han spoke of. Even so, he felt his father was right, that this was just one of the aspects young Ben had disliked about Jedi training. He couldn’t bring himself to go back there, however, he couldn’t revisit those days just yet. 

“No,” He said, reflexively more than anything, needing to put words to the feelings, “No, no…”

“It’s all right, hey, it’s okay,” Han said, as gently as he’d ever been able to. He reached a hand out, catching himself just short of touching Kylo on the arm. He looked uncertain, then, pulled his arm back. “Listen, I know you don’t want to go back to D’Qar…”

“No,” Kylo turned to his father, eyes blazing. He knew - he _knew_ \- this would come up again. “No, we are going to Naboo.”  
“Ben,” Han said slowly, “Just listen, kid, just give me a minute. Okay? I’ve got an idea.”

“I don’t like your ideas!” Kylo could feel the panicked beasts in his mind writhing, unraveling, reaching tendrils out. He shuddered. “They’re stupid!”

“Listen, we’ll go back, okay, and we’ll tell them that you escaped to rescue  _ me _ ,” Han started. Kylo was shaking his head in response, more and more panicked as his father continued to speak. “The prison isn’t even ON D’Qar, right? So even if-”

“No!” Kylo snapped, feeling the panic rise at the back if his mind again. He jumped to his feet and spun to face his father angrily, feeling the rampant beasts let loose in his head. He was shaking, all of him was shaking. “I'm not- I TOLD YOU I won't go back!”

“Ben, listen to me,” Han said, rising slowly.

“I told you I'm never - I’M  _ NEVER  _ \- “ Kylo cut off with a whimper. The darkness was edging across his vision. They’d take him back, they’d lock him up. Luke  _ LUKE _ his  _ UNCLE _ he would be… the manacles… Kylo struggled to control his breathing, struggled against the massive insistent need to fight, fight,  _ fight _ . He couldn't lose control now, he didn't want to lose control now. “You don't under _ stand _ I was in for  _ life _ and I escaped - HUX escaped - the  _ ship was stolen…” _

“You escaped so you could find me-”

“That won't matter!” Kylo whimpered, wanting so desperately to rage and so desperately to maintain control. Why couldn’t his father understand? Why couldn’t he see? Kylo tugged at his hair, hard, focusing on the pain of it, anything to keep him from unraveling. He wouldn’t go back to it, he would never go back to it.

“Listen kid, if there's one thing I've learned about politics it's that nothing matters more than the words you use and the spin you put on them,” Han said, gruff and confident. Too confident. Kylo found himself wanting to believe him. Han approached him, slowly and cautiously, “You escaped because you had to, because no one would believe you if you told them. You got me out of slavery on an unknown planet in the darkest sector of the galaxy, and brought me back home. On top of that -” Han paused for emphasis, “On top of that, you're willing to work to change, to become a part of society again. Well, a  _ positive _ part of society. We should probably add that...”

Kylo wasn't sure that was all that true, but he was beginning to see what his father meant. Hadn’t Han wormed his way out of horrible predicaments before? And wasn’t this the same? Kylo wasn’t so sure of it, but he was tired of thinking ways out of his predicament. Tired of fighting the panic that gnawed on his throat. 

“They won't believe it…” He said finally, unable to let go of that haunting fear. They’d lock him up, again. This time they might even execute him.

“Trust me,” Han said, “Once your mother gets a hold of them, they won't have any other choice.”

“She… she wouldn’t,” Kylo shook his head morosely, hands still in his hair. His heart beat rapid in his chest but he was able to breathe somewhat slower now. “She wouldn’t do that for me.”  
“What are you talking about?” Han asked, genuinely surprised.

“She sent me away!” Kylo growled, old unhealed wounds as painful as the fresh. How could his father be so stupid? “She didn’t… she didn’t want me around then so why now?”

“That’s not true,” Han said, “That’s not why she sent you to train on your own with Luke.”  
“Shut up,” Kylo winced, _Luke_ , his mind beginning to come dangerously close to revolving on that single memory, on that glistening metal box, prepared and waiting for him, empty chambers beckoning him towards his destruction, and the unseen hands on his back, on his arms, holding him, making sure he couldn’t escape…

“You don’t know anything!” Kylo shrieked, spinning away from his father and punching a hand at a nearby wall. The sound was deafening, resounding around the small chamber. The whole sheet of metal was dented inward to an astonishing degree, Kylo’s hand untouched thanks to the cone of Force that had surrounded it. 

Leaving his father behind, he stalked to the bridge and collapsed in one of the seats. He curled up on himself, pulling his knees to his chest and huddling against the backrest. The position was awkward and painful but he could not care less. He was struggling against that panic again, against the thoughts that threatened to overwhelm him. He wanted to get out - the wild idea that he should jump from the airlock in hyperspace suddenly appealed to him greatly. Biting his lip to keep from whimpering, he focused his gaze on the control panel, started to name each button, each key, each lever. The systematic naming of the familiar helped him get his mind off of those dangerous thoughts, helped him find some level ground to cling to even as his body shook with the backwash of panic and anger. He added controlled breathing once he’d calmed enough to manage it; breathe in, hold to three, breathe out. 

Going in back had been a mistake. He wouldn’t make it again, he promised himself. He wouldn’t allow the lure of the familiar, the lure of  _ attachment _ , to distract him again. 

Exactly what it was distracting him from, he wasn’t quite certain. But attachment had never done any good for him, had it?

 

Kylo woke with a start, nearly tilting out of the seat. The view outside the windows was dark, dotted with stars. They were out of hyperspace. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes, stretching cramped muscles as he took in the view. There, in the distance but large enough to see clearly, was a gray-green planet, an asteroid belt ringing it like a tilted halo.

Panic. Kylo shot to his feet as he recognized planet, nearly fell as his muscles tried to revolt, and started to tap away at the ship’s controls. They were locked. They were  _ locked _ ! How? How did he not notice? Why had he fallen asleep? How did his father manage it?! He growled, slamming a fist against the unresponsive controls, the cacophony of beeps sounding loudly discordant in the silence of the bridge.

“Ben,” His father’s voice ventured from behind him. Kylo spun, eyes locking ferociously on the other man. His breathing was ragged, the beasts in his mind promised  _ blood _ this time, he’d rip this ship apart if he had to, he wouldn’t go back.

“Why?!” He growled. His father held his gaze, neither coming closer nor shying away from his fury, merely standing and waiting, and that in itself seemed more imposing than anything Kylo could imagine himself doing. “Who did -  _ who did you notify? _ ”

“No one. No one knows we’re here.” Han said slowly, hands raising up and out in a calming gesture. 

“Why did you… why…” Kylo leaned back against the console, fighting to keep from losing himself over to the blind panic.

“You didn’t save me just for me,” Han said, this time taking a step closer. When Kylo didn’t react, he took another, then another. “Ben, it’s time to come home.”

“No,” Kylo felt it like a dagger to his heart, the words he spoke, that emotion. It pained him as much as it did the last time his father had mentioned it, but he found himself accepting it gladly this time, the pain and the bleeding heart. He resented the idea that he could long for something like ‘home’ but he was too tired, too worn out and too beaten down to fight the reality of it any more. It had always been there, deep inside, waiting for a moment when he couldn’t keep it buried anymore. 

“They won’t have me,” Kylo whimpered, unwilling to hope. 

Han reached a hand out gently and brushed a tear Kylo hadn’t realized he’d shed from his cheek.

“If they even  _ hint _ about locking you up again, I’ll bust you out personally,” Han said. His words rang with a truth Kylo hadn’t heard in years. “So what do you say, kid? Think you can give it another try?”

Kylo saw the imploring look in Han’s eyes, a promise there of something better than the past years, and he allowed himself to believe it.

 

__

 

“This is idiotic,” Kylo muttered as he followed his father. Han rolled his eyes and gave him a long-suffering look.

“Just stay quiet, do your thing,” Han tapped his temple for emphasis, “And let me know if any of them start thinking anything suspicious.”

Kylo nodded, still incredibly irked by his father’s plan, and maybe moreso by the fact that it was actually working.

Han had thought it up, convinced Kylo that with his Force powers getting into the Resistance compound would be a piece of cake. Kylo hadn’t been entirely certain of it. There was a chance that Luke or Rey were at the base, and even if he used only a bit of the Force, wouldn’t they notice?  That didn’t sit well with him, the thought that he was giving himself away prematurely. What if they’d try to find him? He’d considered reaching out to find them himself, to give himself at least that edge on the situation - but Luke would know. He would feel the touch and he would  _ know _ . Kylo preferred risking them feeling his light manipulations and searching him out over having Luke  _ reach back _ .

So he went in blindly, following his father’s plan to silently keep them out of the minds and notice of the people around them. It was easy and it wasn’t; rather, it was tedious, the constant tapping on other’s minds, steering them carefully away from looking too long at Kylo and Han, from remembering them. The focus should have kept his mind from wandering, but he found himself helplessly gravitating towards the thought of his mother, seeing her again,  _ speaking _ to her again. The thought made his stomach twist and his mouth go dry.

Nothing should ever be decided when emotions ran high. Nothing.

He followed after Han, however, a few steps behind him as they approached the guard shack at the compound’s gate. Han walked up with confidence, and the two guards eyed him curiously. Kylo reached out, tapped on their minds and tweaked just enough so that they’d remember speaking to someone, but not to who or about what.

“We’re here to pick up the shipment to Coruscant.” Han said, grinning easily.

“What… what shipment?” The first guard said, giving Han a suspicious look. Kylo pried into her mind a bit more, gently - and it wasn’t easy -  _ reminding _ her of a shipment. She blinked slowly, looked down at the communications pad she held. “Oh yes, of course.“

“There’s a shipment?” The second guard asked, puzzled. Kylo frowned, stepping up but keeping himself behind his father as much as he could. 

“Yes, I forgot to mention it,” The first guard said apologetically. Kylo touched on the second one then, and the man nodded in acceptance.

“All right then, head on in,” The guard tapped at the controls, and the gates rolled open.

“Oh, and we were asked to check in with the General, do you know where we’d find her?” Han asked.

“At this time? She’s probably in her office.” Guard number two responded. 

“Great, thanks!” Han grinned, and with Kylo trailing headed in through the gate.

“See, easy,” Han said happily under his breath to Kylo once they were inside and the gate closed behind him.

“Right,” Kylo said, but he couldn’t share his father’s excitement. The sound of the gate closing, a low metallic thud, had sent a sudden shock through him. He was locked in, now. Trapped. His skin prickled at the thought, and he forced himself to breathe, to settle down. He’d done good, so far. 

The compound was large, with many buildings and walkways between them, but Han seemed to know where he was going. Kylo followed behind, keeping the minds of others turned away as they went. There wasn’t much suspicion that he could find, even when the Resistance personnel saw them for a moment. They seemed vigilant yet relaxed, quite different from what Kylo had been used to on the Finalizer. The Stormtroopers were hyperaware and rigid, bound by strict regulations and rarely allowed free of them. Kylo assumed there had to be areas where the personnel on the Finalizer had relaxed and engaged in casual pursuits, but he’d never invited himself to them. Still, the surface differences between the Resistance personnel and the Finalizer crew were vast, and he felt like he’d entered an alien world. It was much too civilian for him. He would fault the Resistance and their lack of proper training, but each mind he touched had protocol in it, a well trained regimen. They were soldiers, there could be no doubt, and yet they were also something other than soldiers. The dichotomy was unsettling.

Han led the way inside a building, and upon following him Kylo felt a sudden and familiar tickle at the back of his mind. With it came a sudden rush of memory; grav-cars humming outside the windows of a hotel, the bitter taste of coffee stolen from his mother’s half-full cup, the cold and sharp smell of space contrasting with the warmth of her hug. He came to a full stop just inside the doors, forcing the memories away and struggling to regain his control once again. He’d known he’d have to face his mother, but the actuality of it hadn’t descended until that moment. Hesitantly, he continued following his father into the depths of the building.

Han stopped finally before a nondescript door in a hallway full of other nondescript doors. A small metal tag on the door stated simply “General”. Kylo could feel his mother beyond it, her presence almost too real for him to bear. Regret boiled up within him, nearly choking him; he should never have come back. He shouldn't have listened to his father. When had listening to his father ever done him any good?

Many times, possibly, but he couldn't think of any right then. All he could see was the glaring reality before him, and it was blinding. 

Han opened the door without knocking, and stepped inside. The atmosphere changed in seconds, buzzing Kylo’s mind and deafening his ears. He could hear their voices, the surprise and the shock and the joy bursting round much too loudly. His parents were always loud, he remembered then; even in their silences the  _ potential _ was almost too much. 

Slowly he crept up to the doorway, feeling invasive and out of place. 

“I don’t understand how this is possible.” His mother, the  _ esteemed _ General Leia Organa, stood near her desk and holding Han’s arms as she gazed at him in disbelief. She had not changed much since his sentencing, not that he could tell. There might have been more gray in her hair, but even standing still she was graceful… and intimidating. Always intimidating. Kylo felt his pulse quicken, his heart flutter fitfully. She was as she’d always been, wasn’t she? And wasn’t his father as well, still the same as he grinned widely at her, obviously pleased with the reaction his sudden appearance had gotten. Hadn’t this scene played out in his childhood many times, maybe not so potent in meaning but so  _ similar _ in feeling and in action.

“Trust me, if I understood, you’d be the first person I’d tell,” Han said gently; he’d never been one to get too overwhelmed to speak but he seemed almost to that point then.

“But Han, how… how, all of this, just  _ how _ ?” Leia asked. Han took a deep breath then, patted her shoulders.

“Well, you see, I had help,” Han looked towards the doorway. Towards  _ him _ \- it was his turn now, wasn’t it? Han looked at him imploringly, Kylo could practically hear his father in his head,  _ trust me _ .

“What do you mean?” His mother asked, turning towards the door herself. Kylo suffered in silence as she saw him, as surprise widened her eyes, as recognition stole her breath. For a long moment there was nothing but that silence, heavy and deafening. He almost turned, almost left, but her eyes held him with their gaze, full of so much emotion; regret, and joy, and love perhaps. 

“Ben,” She breathed his name, as if saying it any louder would make him disappear. Maybe it would, his mind was already scrabbling for it, reminding him of exits, planning his escape. Yet, he couldn’t move, frozen to the spot by his mother’s eyes. She took a step towards him, and he almost flinched away, even though they were separated by several feet - almost. Maybe he did. She stopped herself, then spoke again, as gently as before, “Ben, come in here. Please.”

“I can’t stay,” He blurted out before he could stop himself, even as he stepped inside the room, closing the door behind him. “They’re looking for me, I know it.”

“Of course they are,” His mother said, stepping closer to him, “Chief Ianto contacted me after you’d escaped, asking that we notify them if we learn anything of your whereabouts.”

He wasn’t surprised by it, but knowing that they had made his already heightened nerves even worse. He shot an accusing look at his father, but Han didn’t flinch. 

“That’s not going to happen, not yet at least,” Leia said, and Kylo looked back to her. She had a severe look in her eyes, her jaw set, and though it made him anxious it was a strange sort of anxious, not  _ fearful _ but  _ expectant. _ But what could there be to expect? Kylo had bought into his father’s daydream but the reality was never that simple. There was no way the delicate politics of the current alliance would allow for anything other than his return to Scipio, and the prison. 

“My quarters,” She said with certainty, and looked at Han. “They are located where the old barracks stood, do you remember?”

“How could I forget?” Han said with a sour look on his face. 

“There are guest bedrooms along the main hall, and no one goes into the building without my permission,” Leia turned to look at him then, “You can stay there for now, until we… sort things out.”

“The New Republic,” Kylo ventured, still unable to believe that she was willing to shelter him. “The council won’t like this…”

“There are many things they don’t like,” Leia said with a wry grin that was all too familiar and painful. Her expression changed suddenly, and she eyed the both of them curiously, “Wait. How… did you two get in here? And without anyone noticing?”

“The Force?” Han replied with a shrug and glanced at Kylo. Leia looked at him as well, concerned. 

“Have you been using the Force?” She asked quietly, almost secretively.

“A little,” Kylo admitted, and it wasn’t a lie. It  _ was _ a little, recently at least. He saw his mother’s eyes glance to his arms, then back to his face.

“That’s right, they mentioned…” Her voice trailed away, and she lay a hand on his arm. Kylo surprised himself by not pulling away from her touch; her reaction, her decision, it all caught him off guard, in truth, and he wasn’t quite sure how to process it. “If you made it this far, you can make it a bit further. Go, and get some rest.”

“And you?” Han asked, stepping up next to them. It almost felt claustrophobic, Kylo couldn’t help but feel as if his parents were nothing more than another set of walls closing around him. Somehow, they didn’t seem quite as frightening as the others he’d been trapped within.

“It’s the middle of the day, and I have things to finish managing, if I want to keep up appearances.” Leia said. She patted Han’s arm, and turned to Kylo, “If you’re willing, I’d like to talk later. Just the two of us.”

Kylo nodded almost reflexively, because he couldn’t trust his voice. He couldn’t trust anything at the moment, his brain screaming at him that this was all a trap, a ruse, to get him in the hands of the New Republic again. Part of him believed it so deeply, but another part also believed in what his father had said, in the silent promise in his mother’s eyes. Rectifying the two was impossible, his mind reeled at the mere hint of it. What could he do, what should he do, it made no sense...

He’d stay for now, at the very least - he needed to rest, to regain his strength, to rid his head of the ordeals of prison. That was a good reason to stay, Kylo decided. It  _ had _ to be a good reason to stay - despite how badly he wanted to flee the potential future there, he could deny no longer that he was in no shape to do so by himself. He’d stay, and when ready he would leave, well before the New Republic could get their hands on him again.

“Let’s go,” Han said. Leia let go of them, and Kylo could feel her eyes on his back as they headed out.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the next chapter is finally here! Very sorry for the long time between updates, it should move along faster now.
> 
> Hope you enjoy! And please let me know what you think!  
> You can also find me on tumblr at itsdetachable.tumblr.com I tag all story related things as "a little unsteady fic"

The general’s quarters were spacious, if basic. The building was a standard military grade structure of slabs of reinforced concrete, accented by decorative brick which bordered the double-sized entrance doors and windows. Leia had never been one to flaunt her status or drown in excess, and it showed in the building. From the outside it barely differed from the buildings around it. Inside it was only slightly more apparent that it housed someone of importance. The entrance foyer was large and pleasant, lit by large windows and a reinforced skylight. The General’s rooms were located at the back of the building, while a dining area bordered one side of the garden and the guest rooms bordered the other. A spacious and comfortable sitting area was situated to the side of the foyer at the front of the building. 

Kylo did not spend much time observing any of it. He was beginning to feel flighty, an excess fluttering in his bones making him shake. As soon as Han showed led him to the guest hall and showed him the rooms, five in all, he stalked out one for himself and locked himself inside, ignoring Han’s voice as his father called after him. 

Standing just inside the door he eyed the room warily, taking in every detail he could. The entrance area had an armchair set to one side, a lamp standing next to it, and a small table set against the opposite wall with an idyllic painting of a forest hanging above it. The second room was larger, containing a modestly sized bed at just right of center and a desk and chair against the far left wall next to a large dresser. The door to the refresher was on the left as well, and two curtained windows bordering the bed let the afternoon sun in. Kylo paused at the threshold between front room and inner room, feeling foolish yet unable to keep himself from inspecting every aspect of the rooms with the Force. Foolish, and yet he couldn't help but think - maybe someone had recognized them, maybe someone had come to these rooms first, was lying in wait, maybe…

The rooms were empty of any life, however. He allowed himself to relax a bit. The windows drew his attention however, and after a moment he reached out with the Force and slowly drew down the blinds. The sunlight muted, and the shadows in the room deepened, but he felt somewhat safer.

Only somewhat. He was in the middle of the main Resistance compound, a man hated and reviled across the galaxy, a fugitive that some would prefer to see dead rather than captured. Many. Many would prefer that. Despite his parent’s hopes, he knew his future was bleak there. He was surrounded by enemies.

Once again, Kylo considered leaving, the thought tantalizing when compared to his current whereabouts. Not doable, however, not at his current state. His body shook, his limbs felt heavy and weightless at the same time. He felt worn through; he found it hard to believe that he had ever felt strong. Despite his misgivings about the compound, he needed it, and his mother’s protection. He needed to recuperate, to find himself, to find the power that had been locked away from him. Once he got himself back to somewhat normal, he promised himself, he would leave and never look back. Again.

For the moment, he pulled off the jacket he wore and kicked off his boots. He should wash, probably, but he couldn't find the energy. The adrenaline that had been pushing him along for the past few days was draining away at the false sense of security. He’d rest a moment, he decided as he lay on the bed, then he'd wash. Then work on himself. Then plan…

* 

Kylo woke with a start. Darkness greeted him, deep and unkind. He scrambled off the bed, falling to the floor heavily. His mind reeled -  _ how long had it been this time _ \- where was he -  _ what a dream he’d had!  _ Dim light reached him as his eyes adjusted, and he jolted back to the present. Still crouched on the floor, he fought to steady his breathing and slow his pounding heart, then lurched to his feet and headed to the refresher. He found the sink in the darkness, turned on the taps and let the water run. The sound of it rushing out of the faucet and gurgling down the drain gave him something to focus on, to center on. After a moment he dipped his hands in the icy stream and splashed it onto his face, letting the chill bite deep and shock him back to steady. He turned the water off, breathed deeply and slowly as he let the last of the water drip off of his face. 

He headed back into the bedroom, still feeling flighty, his skin twitching and his mind whirling. Pacing the length of the room, feeling out for obstacles with the Force, he tried to remind himself he was no longer in prison, no longer locked up no longer in solitary. He could beat it, he knew he could, if he could only make himself believe the darkness wasn’t pressing in around him and stealing the air from his lungs. The dim light filtering through the window blinds helped somewhat, but when he focused on it he was gripped by a sudden and feverous need to run to the windows, throw open the blinds and let whatever light was out there shine in strong and steady. It was only the thought that he could be seen, noticed and recognized that kept him from doing so - and yet, still, he crept across the floor, approached the nearest window. Carefully, he pulled a small section of blinds apart and looked out. 

The sky above was dark, the light came from a security light on a nearby building. It was steady and warm and utterly bright. Too bright. Kylo decided that it was a good thing he hadn’t followed his original impulse and pulled the blinds open. Too much light wasn’t good either, no, it wasn’t. He padded away from the window, back towards the center of the room, feeling somewhat more in control of himself. 

Comparatively, he reminded himself, he was safer now than he had been since escaping the prison. No one had come knocking down the doors in the dead of night, which would have been the perfect time to catch a person unawares - therefore, he concluded with desperate logic, they hadn't caught on that he was there among them, not yet. For what it was worth, he could assume that the safety would continue until the morning, at least. Afterwards he would he would have to consider his options again - but for now he could try to get some rest. 

Decided, Kylo began to walk over to the bed, but stopped himself. The room was still dark, the dim light peeking through the gaps of the blinds barely reached the bed, leaving it mostly in shadow. Eyeing the room critically, he returned to the refresher and turned on the light there, then pulled the door almost closed so only a thin sliver of light escaped. Walking to the bed finally, he sat on it and glanced around the room; the light from the refresher outlined the furniture, gave shape to the walls. There was darkness, for the light was faint, but the darkness was no longer formless and all-encompassing. Somewhat more relieved, Kylo pulled the covers back and settled to sleep again.

* * *

 

He’d slept deeply, and woke to the patter of rain on the windows. He washed finally, and reluctant to put back on the worn and stained clothes he’d been wearing, he put on a day robe he found in the room’s dresser instead. The day felt odd, the world seemed too calm and too real, but the sound of the rain soothed him with its gentle rhythm. He found himself jittery still, the edges of his body feeling intangible, difficult to grasp. He needed to mentally ground himself somehow, and the best way he knew of was through meditation.

Seating himself on the floor in the center of the room, he closed his eyes and felt for the Force. It flowed around him, eddying in pools and swirling in long, slow waves. That was how it seemed to him, at least. Luke had told him once, when he was much younger, that those who used the Force found their own way of recognizing it. For Kylo, it was an ocean, not the beating waves on shore but the mingling currents of the deep, folding into and over itself, splitting and reforming. Steadying his breathing and allowing the Force to enter his mind and body, he gave himself up to it and let his mind go empty.

The ebb and flow of the Force rocked him, pulsed through out him, and he worked to focus on it, to make it all he knew and felt in that moment. He hadn’t meditated so strongly in a long while - not since before the prison, and it had been somewhat difficult before that. While his room on the Finalizer had been customized for him, the ship was constantly moving through Force streams as it sped through space, and the flux of it made truly deep meditation difficult for him, though he’d eventually learned to manage it.  But when it came to prison… the space was all wrong, everything was stiff and stifling, and the more energy he poured into forging a connecting with the Force, the closer he came to activating the manacles and implant. 

When he was very young and only learning to focus on the Force, to allow himself to fall into the deep contemplation of it, he was plagued by a peripheral hyper-awareness. Anything and everything, the tiniest of distractions, could wrench him out of his silent reverie and back to the harshness of the physical and tangible world around him. It had grated on him badly - indeed, it may have been the beginning of his foul tempers and unrestrained outbursts. He’d conquered that fault eventually, but after his nerve wracking stay in the prison he found it coming back to haunt it once more.

Despite himself, despite how deeply he wanted to let go and relax into the waves of it, he could not keep his mind from wandering from the Force’s flow. Something was tapping at his awareness, the low almost inaudible hum of the lights or the filtered and barely-there sounds of the world outside…

Breathing out irritably, he opened his eyes and glanced around the room. Maybe the flow was wrong. Perhaps, he could redirect it somehow. Sometimes it felt like the Force caught around objects, as if it were as physical as the world itself, or maybe the physical world projected into the Force’s space - whatever it was, it wouldn’t flow correctly. He wouldn’t be able to feel it correctly. Rising to his feet, Kylo eyed the furniture in the room. All movable. First the desk - he moved it out to the front room, along with the chair. The dresser he pushed to the corner near the door to the refresher. He finished with the bed, shoving it across to the other side of the room and into a corner. That cleared the center of the room, and Kylo returned to his previous spot, seating himself once again on the floor.

He found that the flow was somewhat better, and whether it was all in his head or not he could tap into the Force much more easily. The swell of it surrounded him and he relaxed into it once again, emptying his mind. It was familiar, and after such a long time without it he was almost overwhelmed by the emotions that struck him. The Force had always been with him, had become the one constant in his life that he could always turn to. Until they’d taken it away, forced him to repress his connection to the Force, forced him to deny himself the one thing that made him who he was.

Deep breath in, deep breath out. He wouldn’t allow himself to be distracted by those sorts of thoughts, not right then, when he was finally able to freely touch the Force again. Better to relive the good moments, to think of how it felt to have the Force under his control again, to wield it once more. 

That thought brought him back to the Rodian, however, and that lack of enjoyment that had followed. Yes, he had his power again, but using it against others, taking control of others no longer gave him the same sense of accomplishment that it had. Even remembering the look on Mir’s face afterwards, that mix of awe and fear, only brought a bitter taste to his mouth. Would he ever feel joy at his connection with the Force again?

The thought passed fitfully, and in its wake an image coalesced in his mind’s eye, accompanied by the feeling of something deep and foreboding. A dusty, chill planet spun beneath him - winds howled over crumbling ruins - desolate landscapes swept past him. He jolted mentally, reached out to grab hold of those images, those feelings, yet they were gone almost as quickly as they had come - gone, and leaving behind the oddest feeling that he’d been  _ touched _ .

It was unwelcome, strangely familiar, and his skin prickled as he shuddered. He kept those fleeting images in his mind, however, attempting to understand what they meant, and where they'd come from. Was it a message to him? Where, and from whom, could it have come from if it was? Perhaps he'd caught the stray memories if some long-lost Force-sensitive soul, too weak to become a Force ghost yet too strong to completely dissolve into the ether. It had happened to him before - Snoke had mentioned it was an odd gift- yet it had only happened rarely, and never as vividly as this time. If it was a stray memory, his search would end soon enough, but if it wasn’t, if he could somehow follow the images, then perhaps…

A loud knocking on the door jolted him out of his concentration.

“There's food in the dining room if you want it,” Han called through the door. Kylo could feel him linger a moment before walking on, apparently not expecting a response. Fists clenched, he scowled at the door darkly. What was he, ten again? Needing to be reminded of basic human necessities? He'd go and eat when he felt like it, not when they told him to. And just then he had every intention of going the rest of the day without eating, just for spite - was he ten again indeed? Even spite was not a good enough reason to deny himself the things he needed to recover, however. Besides, he told himself, this would be real food, not spaceship fare, and that was enough to entice him.

Rising to his feet, he reached out tentatively to scan the building. Han and Leia were in the dining room, no doubt settling down for the meal, but otherwise the rooms were empty. Truthfully Kylo didn't like the idea of facing both of them at once, there was still a bit of a uncomfortable feeling that washed over him when he remembered where he was and in whose presence he was staying, but he didn't quite like the idea of eating a cold meal either. He refused to go out there in a day robe, however, and though the clothes he had worn were still unwashed and rumpled, he felt they were the better choice. Once dressed he headed out of the room, taking his time on the way to the dining room.

Leia and Han were seated at the head of the table, and they looked up at him as he came into the room. Ignoring their looks and greetings, he inspected the room itself. Roughly two and half times larger than the guest room he'd taken, it had four large windows set in the far wall and two separate doors that opened back onto the hallway. Another door, set far in back and to the side, seemed to lead to the kitchen. The table stood at the center of the room, and the food was laid out on platters on a smaller buffet table standing against the wall between the two entry doors.

The scent of the food was tantalizing, and he took a plate from the end of the table and loaded it, unable to completely mask his eagerness. There were meat rolls he knew would be stuffed with a spicy vegetable mixture, corkscrew pasta tossed in a white sauce with sea scallops, deep fried legume strips in gravy - he fought back the pang of nostalgia and appreciation that welled up suddenly, refusing to allow himself to dwell on how most of the dishes laid out had been his favorites once.

Tactically, the dinner table was in a horrible spot. After another quick glance at the room, Kylo seated himself towards the end of the table, on the far side from his parents. His back was to the the windows but he had a commanding view of both the doors leading out to the hallway and the door on the other end of the room that led to the kitchens. No one would be able to sneak up on him.

"How did you like your room?" Leia asked from across the table.

“It was adequate," Kylo responded, not looking in her direction. Even her voice alone was enough to stagger him somewhat; his mind was remembering, and his memories were unkind, attempting to make him relax, to make him enjoy the feeling of being wanted again.  
_Don't you remember_ , they seemed to croon, _they said they'd always love you, no matter what - and haven't they kept that promise? Haven't they taken you back?_  
_No_ , Kylo told them, _first they'd deserted me, first they'd gotten rid of me._

The memories refused to disappear, merely fading into the background, but he refused to allow them to sway him. He clung to what had been his lifeline for so many years - the feelings of loss, of betrayal, and the anger that had followed. It had served him well so far -  _ hadn't he thought that before, of other things? _ \- It would continue to serve him -  _ and had it really taken him where he'd wanted to be _ ?

Forcing the warring thoughts out of his mind, he instead turned his attention to his food, devouring it with a speed that bordered on desperation. He barely tasted anything he put in his mouth, he needed to be out of that room and away from anyone else, to be alone, to recover without distraction.

"Ben," Leia said suddenly, a beginning to a sentence. Kylo tensed, feeling her move closer to him, and he looked up from his nearly empty plate as she neared. She stayed on the far side of the table, as if worried she may spook him, and sat across from him. He hadn't seen her properly in years, even during the trial they had been refused any close contact. As with his father he found her older, gray haired and looking worn by the passage of time. Beyond that, however, was a will of steel and a strength of character few possessed, he could see it still. He'd loved her - he truly had - and he'd been intimidated by her as well. That much he'd allow himself to admit.

"How are you?" Leia said. The question wasn't enough to encompass everything she'd like to ask, like to say, but it seemed to be all she could manage at the moment. Kylo eyed her for a moment.

"Fine." He responded simply. They both knew it to be a lie, but Leia didn't look surprised.

"You know I'd like to talk with you," Leia said softly, pausing only a moment on seeing Kylo's frown, "And I know you don't want to. I suppose there's no reason to pretend otherwise."

She didn't quite sound defeated, and Kylo was certain that wasn't the end of it.

"I do have something I need to tell you," Leia continued, "I received a message from Luke yesterday. He has been travelling with Rey the past few months, but he's cutting their travels short and returning here, to D'Qar."

Kylo realized his hands were trembling. He clenched them into fists to steady them and forced himself to breathe. Eyeing his mother warily, he asked, "Did you tell him?"

"No," Leia said, "I told him nothing, but it can't be a coincidence that he'd decide to return now."

"I don't want to see him," Kylo hissed. He didn't want to be there anymore. Going to D'Qar had been a horrible idea, he never should have listened to his father.

"I know," Leia said. "And I'll tell him that when he gets here."

Useless. If Luke wanted to get to him there was nothing his mother could do, nothing any of them could do. No, Kylo thought, there was one thing he could do - leave. Now, before Luke got any closer to him. He could leave, get on the ship and get away. Go somewhere, anywhere, maybe Gree perhaps.

"No," Leia said with such vehemence it jolted him out of his whirling thoughts. "You won't be leaving. You don't have to leave. You're fine here, Ben, you're safe."

Kylo stared at her in silent bemusement; not for the first time he wondered if his mother hadn't had some Force powers of her own. Too often had she seemed to read his mind…

Uneasy, Kylo glanced at his father from the corner of his eye. Han looked slightly disinterested, he hadn't said a word during the whole exchange, but Kylo could sense that his attention was fully on them. On him. Maybe his parents had decided on this beforehand, the division of conversation.

"That’s not entirely true," Kylo said finally, looking back at his mother, "But I'll stay for now."

Until he thought of a way out of it all, he added silently. 

Leia accepted his statement wordlessly, and then asked, "Is there anything you need?"

To be left alone, Kylo thought. 

"Clothes would be helpful," He said aloud. With that he rose from the table, anxious to be out if the room and away from the possibility of more conversation.

"Leaving already?" Han spoke finally. He didn’t sound pleased.

"Yes," Kylo said tonelessly, and headed for the door, "I'm tired."

He returned to his room, his body thrumming with anxious anticipation. If Luke had sent the message the afternoon before, and now it was almost midday, it couldn't be much longer before... He could be very close now, indeed. Kylo paced inside the room, from one wall to the other. Unable to hold himself back, desperate to be forewarned, he sent his senses racing through the Force in an attempt to track the man. If Luke was in hyperspace, his search would be in vain; Kylo knew of no one who could track a person moving that quickly through space, even Snoke had been incapable of it. And yet he tried anyway, stretching his mind out along the pathways the Force created, searching for any ripple in the currents that would give him Luke's location. He poured so much of himself into the act that the throbbing started again in his head, the precursor to the implant's full activation. Still he wanted to press onward - maybe he should let the implant activate. Let the pain rise to blackout levels, let it knock him into unconsciousness, grant him a few more hours before he'd have to face the inevitable…

No, he caught himself and pulled back. He wouldn't let Luke see him like that. As much as Kylo wanted the man to see what his actions had done, he refused to appear so broken and helpless in his presence.  
And so he waited.

*

It was nearly night when the knock came at his door. Kylo had been seated at the edge of the bed, eyeing that pale rectangle across from him for hours. He'd felt Luke and Rey arrive hours earlier, and the silence since then unnerved him. No doubt his parents had been speaking to Luke, possibly trying to explain away the situation somehow.

It did not matter then; Luke was there, behind the door. 

Kylo stood, but he did not move towards the door. He opened it all the same, unwilling to drag the moment out any longer. Luke stood behind it, silent and unreadable. He stepped in, walked with steady tread through the front room to stand before Kylo. He was shorter, yet even with the height advantage Kylo couldn't help but feel that he was the one looking up at Luke. For a long moment neither of them said anything; Luke regarded him with an uncompromising look, his gaze darkening. His disapproval became palpable as he spoke, a cloud thickening the air.

"I won't lengthen this conversation by saying what I think of think of this," Luke said, his voice low. "I would have come sooner if Leia and Han had not insisted on speaking with me first."

"I’d begun to think you were avoiding me," Kylo said. Luke frowned, his gaze darkening. Kylo watched him stonily, unwilling to show a trace of emotion on his face. 

"We have spoken with the New Republic Council, they are anxious to have you in their custody again," Luke said evenly, his frown unchanging. Kylo tensed at the thought, but kept his emotions from showing in his face. Not that it mattered much, Luke had always been able to feel him out.

"No, you are not returning to them, not yet at least." Luke continued, reading his nervousness. "Han's return -" and there, a flicker of emotion from Luke, gone in an instant - "has swayed some councillor's feelings towards you."

"But not yours," Kylo couldn't help but to interject. Luke was unsurprised.

"No," He replied tonelessly, "but then, I know you and they do not."

Kylo felt the sharp retort rise at the back of his mind and shoot to his tongue, but he bit it back, waiting and listening to discover what fate had been handed him.

"Leia, Han, and I have been asked to attend a meeting on Coruscant to discuss this matter further. You may have saved Han, for whatever reason, but you also facilitated the escape of the worst war criminal of this generation. In light of your past actions, they do not look on it lightly." Luke eyed him critically. "They had wanted you present as well, however both Han and Leia were vehemently against the idea. The council decided you would be allowed to stay here as long as we can assure you do not leave the compound grounds."

If staying put kept him out of prison, Kylo was willing to put up with it for the time being. All he needed was a little time, after all.

"That is a simple enough request to fulfill," Kylo said slowly, certain it couldn’t be quite so easy, “I will just remain in these quarters then.”

"You know how little your word matters in this case," Luke said, dryly, "Therefore the council has requested that you be guarded at all times by another Force user."

Another Force user, and if Luke was to attend the meeting there was only one person he could mean-

"Rey will move into a guest room tomorrow morning, and will remain here until we have returned. Additionally..." Luke paused then, and his face darkened for a moment. Kylo tensed again, his skin prickling at the sudden change in the atmosphere of the room, "Additionally, the representatives who are arriving in the morning to take us to the council meeting will bring with them the remote…”

Luke's voice trailed off, but he didn't need to say more. Kylo felt the chill like an arctic blast, the facade he'd so carefully put in place cracking at the mere implication of Luke's words…

"No," He said, feeling the tremors begin in his fingers, spread up his arms and throughout his body. His voice shook, he couldn’t help it, "She won't need that."

"It was not my decision," Luke said gravely. Anger flared up within Kylo, sputtering but hot.

"You- they only knew it was even possible because of YOU," Kylo growled. 

"The libraries on Coruscant held the information, and I was only asked to consult, not decide… I'd recommended the manacles, yes, but no more than that," Luke said slowly, voice as grave as before, "You don't believe me, of course, but I argued against the implant. Even for you.”

Kylo didn’t believe him.

“Go!” He spat, fists clenched in an attempt to halt that terrible tremor. He couldn’t stand looking at Luke anymore, couldn’t stand anything anymore. “Leave me!”  
Luke didn’t move, watched him in silence, face becoming impassive and unreadable once again.

“We will talk again when I return,” He said after a long moment. 

“Just leave!” Kylo refused to turn away, refused to retreat. He wouldn’t give Luke that satisfaction, not even then, with his mind racing through the thoughts of what could happen now - what could happen with the remote so near him once again. He gritted his teeth and glared at his  _ uncle _ , watching as Luke turned and left, step as steady and measured as before. 

The moment the door closed he let out the sob he’d been holding in, struggled in vain to keep his breath from running ragged and fast. Stumbling to the refresher, he climbed into the tub and collapsed into the base of it, pressing his face against it’s cool wall as he worked to get his racing mind under control. 

The remote was a precaution, nothing more… It wouldn’t be like, like before… it wouldn’t… He told himself, over and over,  _ it wouldn’t be like before,  _ until he finally began to believe it.

Heart still racing but mind somewhat subdued, he forced himself to let go of thoughts, to push away feelings. One day at a time, until he was strong enough again. Tomorrow came first, and then the day after...

One day at a time...


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very sorry for not responding to comments on the last chapter. I was rushed (I left for Poland for a week soon after I published that chapter) but also I just was a bit overwhelmed.   
> I appreciate your comments more than you can know - every time I think I've had enough of this story (because compared to so many amazingly written stories, on AO3 especially, I feel like mine isn't 'good enough') someone leaves a comment and rekindles my passion for it.
> 
> I still love this story very much, though the process is painful sometimes. This chapter in and of itself was difficult to put down. 
> 
> I do hope you enjoy! Thank you all for everything!
> 
> p.s. i post random things about this story on my tumblr, itsdetachable.tumblr.com under the tag "a little unsteady fic"

He had to get out of the room eventually. He’d stayed in most of the day, feeling Rey’s presence like a ghost in the quarters, pinging his radar everytime she moved. He hadn’t gone out to meet her when she came in the morning, and she’d made no move to come and find him. It seemed they both preferred to ignore each other, and that was just fine with him. 

He had to go out, however. He needed to eat, and though he was loathe to leave the confines of his room, confines that had become something like comfortable (safe) to him, he couldn’t ignore his body’s needs. Creeping out, he headed towards the dining room in the hopes that he’d find something there, even at ten at night. Rey was nowhere nearby, he felt her presence in the front communal room, and he headed on quickly, eager to grab something and head back to his room before she caught on he’d moved. 

There was nothing on the tables in the dining room, which was no surprise. Reaching out his senses, he found the kitchen area beyond the room empty, and entered it. The room was not quite large, but it was functional, and more importantly it had a conservator. The elaborate lunch he’d had the day before couldn’t have been prepared here, but no doubt there was food to be found. He dug into the cabinets, then into the conservator. He had no patience to make anything, not really, but he managed to find some leftover meats, sliced cheese, and a fresh loaf of sliced bread. There were some -fruits? vegetables?- he wasn’t familiar with, but which must have been edible seeing as they were in the conservator. He grabbed one, finding it light for its size, and added it to the pile of food he’d already prepared on the counter. 

Movement; at first he thought it was in the room, with him, but after shooting a glance around the kitchen he realized it was not on his  _ visual _ periphery, but his Force-sense periphery. He tensed, eyes shooting to the pile of food on the counter. Rey was in the corridor outside the dining room, he could feel her presence now that he’d been made aware of it. Having been distracted, he hadn’t noticed when she’d left the front room. He looked around the kitchen, searching for something to put the food he’d collected on, and found an empty platter sitting near the stovetop. Pulling it to him with the Force, he began piling everything he’d gathered onto it, all the while feeling Rey nearing. She was closer, closer, nearly to the door of the kitchen - and he made himself relax, steadying his breath. He would  _ not _ let her find him scrabbling around like a rodent, searching for escape. Undignified. No, with forced calm he began picking through the objects he had gathered and placing only those he actually wanted to take with him on the platter.

The door swung open, and despite himself he felt his shoulders twitch, but he managed to keep from looking at her.

“So, you really are here,” Rey said in mock surprise. 

“You had to come track me down to confirm it? You could've sensed me,” Kylo replied, “Or haven't you been taught how, yet?”

He looked at her then, caught her eyes narrowing as she shot him a dirty look. She was dressed in shades of gray - he'd noticed that before, the gray, wondered of the meaning behind it. He was neither curious enough nor familiar enough to voice the question, however. 

“Supper is served at eight,” Rey snapped back, “And breakfast is at seven-thirty. You might want to remember, so you don't have to go about skulking in the darkness searching for crumbs.”

Kylo felt the anger rise in him, bitter at the back of his throat and yet welcome all the same. This was familiar, this rising disdain for Rey, for  _ another person _ \- he wanted to act on it, almost. Wanted to fire back a response, wanted to  _ do _ something, react forcefully, release some of that pent up frustration in the form of a Force push, anything - his eyes flickered back to Rey, first to gauge her - she could take it - but then… His gaze dropped towards her belt, he couldn't fight the sudden chill that descended on him. 

Did she have it? He couldn't tell. The remote was small, it could be easily concealed. Maybe she was goading him, on  _ purpose _ , trying to force him into action. Into doing something that would require....

The fury, the frustration, fell away, retreated like an injured animal back into the recesses of his mind. His thoughts staggered in staccato- What was he doing - he was getting food - what was he - food he was hungry - but Rey was there - what was he doing -

“What is it?” Rey asked suddenly, sounding puzzled. Kylo shot a look at her, found her eyeing him as if she wasn't quite sure what he was. As if he'd appeared suddenly out of the ether.

“What?” he asked, responsively, to her own question.

“Something… Something has changed…” Rey looked severely confused at that. Kylo didn't respond; he turned back to the food he'd gathered and set his sights on the platter again - was he projecting? If he was it was unintentional. Was she picking up on it, then? He couldn't tell. He’d been detached from the Force too long, he'd gotten rusty, he couldn't tell anymore if he was keeping his emotional state to himself or if he was casting it out around him. It hadn't mattered in prison, there was no one there to hear it, or at least make sense of it, but  _ here _ … He’d have to be careful, he had to relearn that art of concealing himself once again.

Slowly, methodically, he finished loading the platter as Rey watched. He could just barely feel her reaching towards him, wisps of touches at the edges of his mind. It took little effort to cut off her probes, but the experience was unsettling all the same. The  _ potential _ of it shook him. Silently, he hefted the platter and turned towards the door. Wordlessly, Rey moved aside to let him pass. He did not look at her, but he felt her presence follow him back to his room all the same.

-

Kylo did not go to breakfast at seven thirty. He was awake for it - he'd been awake all night - but he had been in no mood to deal with Rey. The decision to remain on D’Qar was quickly wearing him down. Why he thought he'd be able to recuperate there, to find some sort of center, he didn't know. There was silence from Coruscant, his parents had sent no word yet, and though he'd attempted to sleep he'd failed miserably. He could still leave, especially now that Luke was nowhere near - he felt confident enough that he could find a way around Rey, despite their last battle - and yet he felt chained in place, unable to make that final decision to  _ go. _ And all night, the weight of the council’s decision hung over him. They'd decided his fate for him once before, and he had no reason to believe they'd be any more lenient this time.

_ They might not even tell him _ , a formless non-voice in his mind whispered,  _ Rey had the remote - they'd incapacitate him unawares, chain him up like a beast, this time making sure there was no chance of escape. _

_ This time, they might leave him in solitary forever. _

He could only find solace in the chill stream of the shower, huddled in the tub, letting the cold shock him back to reality and give him back some modicum of control over the thoughts his traitorous mind sent him. 

The Council would not act so underhandedly, not now when he posed so little a threat, not when they’d made such a big deal of being just and fair, due process and all. And Rey, despite all that had happened, she would not use the remote. She would… She would not use it…

Around mid-day he left his room and stalked down the hallway. He didn’t know where he was going but he needed to move, to be active, to stay ahead of the whirling in his head. He was at the front door before he realized it, opening it even as he felt Rey hurry into the front room.

“Where are you going?” She asked sharply.

“Somewhere,” he snapped back, unable to stop himself had he wanted to. The room was too small, the quarters too confining, and hadn’t they said he needed to stay in the  _ compound _ , not just the building? He needed air. 

Gravel crunched under his boots. He could feel that Rey had followed him, staying a few steps behind; her eyes bored into the back of his skull but he couldn’t feel her probing him.

There was sun, outside. The glare of it made him wince - he'd kept his windows covered, his room darkened. Inside, he'd been painfully aware of how many people passed the general quarters. In his imagination, the number rose much higher. Outside, feeling all the more exposed and vulnerable, he found that imaginary number returning to him. Oh, he wouldn't turn back. He was far too stubborn for that. The eyes, however - imagined or real - were on him, and he quickened his pace anxiously. His hands had begun to shake; he told himself there was nothing to worry about, that no one was going to give him away, hand him over to the New Republic, while the discussions were in place… 

Kill him, however, by some odd arrangement of circumstances? Perhaps.

There were wide streets set between buildings, large enough to allow passage of vehicles if necessary. Almost every building was the same nondescript drab grey concrete, standard sized windows in the walls and only various signs or markings near the doors to differentiate them. Far to the edges he could see the grassy hills that bordered the compound - from what he remembered from maps, the command center and medical bay were located within them, protected from enemy fire in case of attack. 

“Next time tell me you want to take a walk,” Rey said, pulling up alongside him.

“I'd like to take a walk,  _ Master _ Rey, would you allow it?” Kylo shot back before he could catch himself, perfectly mimicking her accent.

“Oh come off it,” Rey grumbled, “Do you think I want to be here?”

“I don't think you mind being here,” Kylo said, “I think you'd prefer I wasn't.”

“You're right,” Rey responded, “I can think of a few places I'd prefer you to be. Behind bars, for one…”

Kylo shot her a glare, and she returned it. They'd reached an intersection by then. A group of people was approaching them from ahead and Kylo felt his hackles raise. His hyper awareness jumped to near max; he found himself watching the approaching group warily, noting their movements, their posture, how they walked. Some had weapons on their person but they were holstered. Other were unarmed. Kylo stiffened as they approached, watching them pass.

Some of them greeted Rey, others eyed him curiously. A couple more looked at him with knowing, distrustful looks in their eyes.

It seemed he was unrecognizable for the most part, at least to some in this group. But others?

“Don't worry, most people here won't recognize you,” Rey said quietly from next to him. “Your face wasn't plastered everywhere, unlike some people, and besides you look a bit different now.”

She actually sounded consoling, and that was strange. Kylo wasn't quite sure he liked it.

Slowly, he headed across the intersection and started past the next row of buildings. Rey followed him, an unloyal watchdog, but he found her presence somewhat grounding. She was something like familiar, compared to the entirely new and unknown surroundings he'd found himself in. 

“Do you know where you're going?” Rey asked. Kylo didn't respond, and after a moment she questioned again, “Any idea whatsoever? Or are you just set on wandering around aimlessly.”

Kylo still remained silent. He wasn't quite sure how to respond, anyways - he'd just needed to get out, away. Unconsciously he began to walk faster, stride lengthening. His mind began focusing on the Council decision again, the meeting that would determine his fate…

He needed to get his mind away from that thought. Anything would do. 

“So is it just you then?” Kylo asked, “Or has  _ Master  _ Luke taken on other apprentices?”

“What's it to you?” Rey snapped back, “Starting to plan your next purge?”

Kylo gritted his teeth and shot her a dark look.

“You understand nothing,” He growled. This may have not been the best subject for conversation, he realized. A flare of anger burst from Rey, he could practically feel the heat of it on his skin. 

“Understand what?” Rey spat, “Mindless murder? You’re right, I don’t.”

Names were surfacing in Kylo’s mind, faces he hadn’t thought of in years. He pushed them back into the recesses of his mind.

“You don’t…” He began, then stopped, then started again, “You… it was better, that way.”

“Better?” Disbelief was plain in Rey’s voice. “They’re  _ dead _ .”

“Exactly.” Kylo responded. She wouldn’t understand, but how could she? They would have only grown to oppose the rise of the First Order and Snoke, and they would have failed. And in that failure, what they would have experienced at the hands of the First Order - at the hands of  _ Snoke _ \- would have been so much worse than what he had done to them. 

“It was war,” He added, somewhat quieter. It was necessary and unavoidable; their deaths were predestined, he was certain of it. Prolonging the inevitable would have done nothing but given them false hope. Whatever the outcome of the war had been, their deaths were one of few certainties.  

“Is that your excuse?” Disgust edged into Rey’s incredulous tone; she was giving him that look again, the same one she’d had when she’d first called him a monster.

He wondered if she understood war at all. Understood the  _ necessity _ of it. Understood looking at war and seeing what it would bring, not today or tomorrow but in the years ahead.

_ Wasn’t he wise - as if he’d understood it himself then - as if he’d understood anything - _

“There are no excuses, in war, there are only decisions,  _ survival _ , and ultimately the cause,” He said steadily, with an intensity he hadn’t felt in a long time. He took a step towards her, towering over her slighter frame, “There is nothing more important than the  _ cause _ .”

Rey gave him a long look, looking up at him without a trace of unease in her eyes.

“Lives are more important.” She said slowly, evenly.

“Lives are disposable.” Kylo responded.

They stood for a long moment, facing each other and not speaking. Rey didn’t seem to understand, and he couldn’t understand how she couldn’t understand. The impasse was profound.

“Have you had enough of the outdoors? Or is there somewhere else you’d like to slink off to?” Rey said finally, plainly uncomfortable with the situation. Kylo, reminded that he was out in the middle of the compound, felt visibility fall on him like a crosshair. Reflexively he took a step back from Rey, shot a glance around their surroundings. They hadn’t gone far, not really, but he was no longer interested in being out in the open. There were people, moving about the compound. Too many things could happen, and he had limited means of defending himself. 

Not that being  _ indoors _ , trapped, was any better - but at least he knew the quarters, somewhat. At least they were something like familiar. 

Without a word to Rey he spun around and headed back. She exhaled loudly behind him, irritation radiating. He ignored it, focused on making his way back… back… His mind started whirling with thoughts again, and helplessness rose out of them - what had been left for him, but waiting for the Council’s eventual decision? What, but to stalk the general’s quarters and be reminded of how little control over his own fate he had left… 

His head ached, a tired ache, and sibilant voices rose in the back of his mind, reminding him - the ship was still out there,  _ out there _ , waiting and ready… he could leave, he could get away… His body was beginning to feel funny at the joints, oddly fluid and jittery, his breath coming fast as he felt an odd sort of weightlessness - he could get out, now, before anyone could stop him, before Rey could stop him….

His head felt heavy and light at once, a metallic center buoyed on clouds; the Council’s decision, why should it ruin his life again? And what if they wanted him back, in prison, chained up?  _ What if _ ? He shuddered to a stop, jerked to face towards where the ship had been left. Had they moved it? Maybe, maybe not. Maybe, maybe not…

Why should he wait for eventual destruction… why not go, go  _ go go  _ **_go_ ** \- his thoughts refused to slow, but he couldn’t care because it made sense. It made such glorious sense - he should leave, now, just as he’d thought. Stop convincing himself that he’d find any rest here, and head out to find a place to hide for a bit… A place where the Council could not reach him, where even Luke wouldn’t be able to chase him down… Why had he listened to Han? When had anything good ever come of listening to his father?

“Don’t you dare.” Rey’s voice was low and steady. 

Kylo glanced at her from the corner of his eye, saw her watching him warily. She didn’t have her staff but one hand hovered near her belt. His eyes flickered back towards the direction of the ship, then back at her, back at the ship, back… He met her eyes. There was a grim resolve there - she’d bested him before, hadn’t she? Her hand still held at ready near her belt, and slowly his resolve faltered, wilted under the realization that he really did not have a choice in the matter. 

She had the remote on her. Of course she did; he would’ve done the same in her place. Better hard certainty than ambiguity and surprise.

He wavered only a moment longer, freedom and escape tantalizing and so near, but whatever frenzied energy he’d just had was gone, smothered by reality. There was no way of escape, not then. Maybe not ever. The weight of that realization descended on him much too heavily, he felt leaden and senseless. Slowly he turned towards the general’s quarters again. His hands shook but he no longer felt like trying to stop them, and his body followed in short time, tiny shudders across his shoulders and back. In quiet resignation, he pulled his eyes away from the far off horizon and headed towards inevitability.

-

Han and Leia, and Luke, returned shortly before nightfall. Rey came to get Kylo not long after they entered the front door; Rey, not his father or mother, and that sent a cold chill through him. The air hung heavy around him as he followed Rey to the front room, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was waiting for him outside the building’s walls. He hadn’t really stopped shaking since he’d returned from the walk, and it only intensified when he saw them gathered in the front room.

Leia smiled, gently. Han sat on the couch next to her, silent. Luke stood near a window, looking out into the growing darkness. 

Kylo gripped the sleeves of his shirt with trembling fingers and forced himself to remain calm.

“Ben, sit down,” Leia said said, motioning to an armchair near the couch. 

“I’d rather not.” Kylo said, eyes flickering between the figures in the room. The tension was thick in the air, he could taste it, metallic on his tongue. “What was the decision?”

Luke turned from the window then, glanced at him a moment, then towards Leia and Han. The three exchanged looks, but didn’t respond right away. Kylo shifted impatiently; a dull thud was sounding in his ears. He needed to know. He needed them to speak. His eyes shifted to Luke again, back to his parents, flickered to Rey where she had settled leaning back against a decorative table. Did she know? Who would tell him? The wait was becoming far too much, the dread of it was becoming overwhelming. He needed them to say it, whatever it was - he was ready to force it out of them if he had to. Pull the words from them, hold them down and  _ pull the words from their minds _ if he had to-

He shuddered, almost unable to keep himself from doing just that. Luke noticed - Luke seemed to notice  _ everything _ now - his gaze sharpening somewhat as he watched Kylo silently. 

“Well, good news,” Han spoke finally, the false cheerfulness of his tone blatant, discordant with the dark feelings emanating from him. “You get to stay here.”

“...on what condition?” There had to be something, the taste on his tongue was blood, and it was rich, and it was his imagination but it was also the rise of tension in the room. 

“They want a full report on what happened during and after the escape,” Leia said, looking at him an odd shadow in her eyes, “Including any information you have on the whereabouts of Hux.”

That wasn’t a problem, Kylo could easily modify the story, keep them from discovering where Hux had gone. He couldn’t see, however, how the information would be enough to gain his freedom, or at the very least gain him respite from a prison sentence the right and just New Republic should be forcing him to carry out to its bitter end. 

“That’s not it,” He said, his voice shakier than he would have preferred it to be. “What is it?”

Han’s eyes had grown darkened again, he stood up and took a few steps from the couch, aimless, lost. Leia’s eyes remained on Kylo, but she said nothing, her gaze calculating yet concerned at the same time. Luke remained silent, watching them all. 

Maybe it was a stray thought that caught against the edge of his awareness, maybe the silence itself brought his fears to the forefront of his mind, maybe both - but suddenly he knew with dread certainty that his initial feeling was right. Something waited for him, outside the walls of the building. 

“Say it,” He said, vehemence tainting his voice, making it too loud for the silence in the room. He felt Rey shift her stance, her eyes trained on him, but he remained fixated on Leia, on Han, on  _ his parents _ , daring - begging - them to speak.

“There was one major condition to allow you to stay here, and not be taken back into the prison,” Luke was the one to speak, his voice even and controlled. His eyes met Kylo’s, and the certainty grew darker, and Kylo  _ knew _ -

“No,” Kylo said, and then more forcefully, “No!”

“It was the only way they’d agree to it, Ben,” Leia said, standing from the couch. “We fought against it, believe me.”

He’d believe no one, ever again. Belief in people had gotten him  _ nowhere _ -

“No, not again,” Kylo said, but his gaze was on Luke now, he felt feverish, “Not again. I won’t… I won’t allow it…”

“What is it?” Rey asked suddenly, her voice quiet but perplexed. 

“The Council has ordered that he be fitted with the Force-reactive manacles again,” Luke responded just as quietly, tonelessly, “In order to ensure the safety of those around him.”

Kylo jerked at the mention of the manacles, unable to contain the reaction. He felt Leia’s concern bubbling up in his senses. She moved towards him, but he backed away. The manacles - again, he’d be cut off from the Force, cut off from using even the smallest part of it, no longer able to feel the world around him, no longer connected - detached, adrift, alone -

Luke stepped towards him, and though Kylo backed away from him as well Luke wouldn’t let him go, grabbing hold of his arm and holding him tightly. His hand was warm, but Kylo could not find the physical contact anything other than foreboding and painful.

“There is little choice in the matter,” Luke said, stepping closer as he held Kylo firmly. “You either stay here, or return to prison, but either way the Council requires the same thing.”

“No choice, rather,” Kylo breathed. 

“The… procedure can be done in the morning,” Luke said, lightening his hold somewhat. His eyes almost seemed to soften, as if he was finding something like sympathy inside him. Kylo despised that look.

“Why wait?” Kylo said with a sneer, finally finding the strength to pull his arm out of Luke’s hold. “What with everyone’s  _ safety _ at stake…”

“Very well then,” Luke said, his eyes gone expressionless again. 

 

They brought the machine to the general’s quarters, as Kylo refused to leave its confines. The thought of anyone else being witness to such an act of degradation disgusted him. He would’ve preferred that Rey left as well, oh he would have preferred that it didn’t happen at all, but she remained, as did his parents - and Luke. 

“Don’t make me hold you this time,” Luke said quietly, standing next to him as the technicians went about calibrating the machine.

“You think me so weak,” Kylo hissed, “I know what to expect.”

Knowing did little to quench the rapidly rising fear in him - if anything, it made it worse, because while the actual procedure was little to worry about, he knew what came after. The knowledge was worse now; the first time he’d been frightened by the prospect, but it was a shallow fear, a fear of the unknown. They hadn’t explained anything to him, nothing of the process or the outcome, but forced him to the machine like an animal forced to the slaughter. The fear now, it was different, deeper and much more real. He knew what came after, and the thought of it made the hysterical thought of escape all the more tantalizing.

They’d seated him on the armchair finally, and brought the machine over to him. It’s bulk, it’s bright contours, all of it was stark and real and menacing. The openings at its front were dark, round chasms, and as he inserted his hands inside they seemed to stretch on forever. The machine vibrated slightly as it detected the presence of his arms. The technicians tapped away at the control pad - he ignored them then as he had when they walked in. They were nothing more than a part of the machine, as cold and callous as it was. 

The first touch of the machine was gentle, like a puff of air on his skin, but he jerked anyways. Struggling to control his breathing and the pounding of his heart, ignoring the thudding in his ears, he forced himself to keep his arms steady within the machine. The vibrations within gained in intensity, a near-silent hum rose as he felt a multitude of tiny arms within the machine begin roving over his skin. Their gentle touches were soon replaced by pinpricks, then the horrible cold of new metal as it was grafted over and around his wrists. Buzzing, the flicker of lasers welding the pieces together, the clatter of machine parts connecting wires and sensors and chips, all of it brought the rise of fear in his mind. The last time was worse, and he was in control of himself this time, but still it was a struggle to keep himself from tearing his arms out of the machine, pushing it away, Forcing everyone away from himself -

The remote, really, was the only thing keeping him from acting. And on thought of it, the weight of his head grew, as if the implant had grown as well, heavy and leaden, as if it were something he could actually physically feel within him, alien and unwelcome. 

The implant, the manacles - connected again, barring him from the Force  _ again… _

The machine whirred, the hum growing lighter, until finally the lights flickered out and it stood silent once more, its task done. The whole procedure had passed much quicker than he’d remembered, but still he felt the ache in his joints, the strain in his muscles that came from forcing himself to keep them still within the machine’s confines. It had all passed quickly and yet it felt like ages, and now - The technicians motioned to him that he could remove his arms, and he did so. They may have said something, but he couldn’t hear it over the buzzing in his ears. On his wrists the new manacles sat heavily, a pale steel like the originals but slightly more streamlined. Cool and gray, low profiled but long, they stretched from the base of his hand a good six inches up his arms. He twisted his arms experimentally, felt the cool metal slide against the scars there. He could hear the technicians now that he’d calmed somewhat, saying something about modifying the manacles in time, if the scar tissue receded. Use the machine  _ again _ ...

Kylo put that thought aside. He remained silent, staring down at his arms and feeling a great sense of emptiness fall upon him. The Force was there, within his reach, if he could stretch a little he could grab hold of it - and the fear resurfaced, rising from the back of his mind and clouding the connection, clouding thoughts of the Force, clouding everything. There would be no Force, he thought. There would be no connection. And his mind was empty. 

He raised his head, looked at his parents, at Luke, eyes straying even to Rey. Maybe he was searching for something but he couldn’t piece together what it was at the moment. Maybe he just wanted to hear something other than the thudding of his blood in his ears and that terrible emptiness in his mind.

But they all remained silent.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A quick update, because after the last chapter this was a breeze to write.   
> To celebrate reaching 500+ views on AO3, there's an illustration in this chap too! Apologies that it is sketchy/non colored (but I'm just happy I managed to draw a human so..)
> 
> I do hope you enjoy this chapter. Things are moving along, we've reached (almost) rock bottom - there's nowhere to go now but up!
> 
> Find me at itsdetachable.tumblr.com , all story things are tagged "a little unsteady fic"

Days were difficult to discern. In the mind fog that followed that fateful night, everything seemed either magnified or oddly distant, close yet separate, as if he were existing on a plane that only happened to intersect with this world, but didn't coalesce with it. Within the oddity of his perceptions and the crippling fear-shadowed longing for the Force, Kylo found himself returning to old, bad habits. Seated on the floor of the shower one night, he picked pieces of glass off of the back of his hand and tried to find a way to get his mind on track again.

He no longer had a mirror. Well, he didn't need one anyway, did he? He picked at his skin slowly, groping near-blindly in the half-light that reached him through the doorway (he no longer had a light in the refresher, either). The biggest pieces of glass he could remove easily, but there was a multitude of tiny shards scattered like diamonds across his skin that would be more difficult to remove. Tiny rivulets of blood wound between them, welling up from near-invisible cuts, and his fingers kept slipping among the wet, sticky mess. The pain had been nice, at the moment his fist met the glass, and right after. It had felt very real, he’d felt very _alive_ and it was so, so welcome… but now it had diminished to a sharp itch, an inconvenience, easily slipping away from his notice and becoming just another dull, monotonous note in the back of his mind.

He couldn’t really focus on anything other than bitter regret. He was angry with himself more than anyone else, but also so very angry at everyone else. Even the anger, however, felt dulled, more like an afterthought curdling the dregs of his mind. It was regret, and fear, that dominated his thoughts - regret of a multitude of things (he could remember every moment he’d made a mistake in his life, no matter how small, every second becoming glaring and obvious in hindsight) and the fear…

He rose and rinsed his hand under cold water. Tiny shards of glass glittered in the half-light as they washed down the drain. No doubt some had been left in the wounds, but he had neither the tools nor the will to work them out - _if he could use the Force he could’ve gotten them out without tools_ \- and lacking bandages he wrapped his hand in a spare towel and went back to bed. He left the lights on.

 

-

“You haven't been leaving your room” Luke said.

Kylo didn't respond.

Luke wasn’t the first person who’d come to his door, but he was the first person Kylo had let in. Mostly because there was little he could prevent Luke from entering (but also because the isolation was beginning to make him uncomfortable, spite was no longer a good reason to leave himself alone, at the mercy of his own mind for hours upon hours upon…)

Kylo didn’t respond, and they sat in silence for a long moment before Luke spoke again,

“How would you like me to call you, when we talk?”

“I'd like it if we didn't talk,” Kylo responded shortly. Luke’s question surprised him, however. Where it came from, he couldn’t be sure. It almost felt personal, it almost felt sympathetic, and that in itself made it uncomfortable. Kylo would almost have liked it better if the question hadn’t been asked, was almost leery of sharing that bit of information when asked for it so plainly. Luke kept his gaze on him however, waiting, and after a moment Kylo acceded, “Kylo.”

Luke nodded in affirmation. He felt as distant as always, Kylo thought, and even though Kylo could reach out a tiny bit with his senses, read others (he knew the limits, at this point) he refrained from doing so with Luke. He knew what he’d find.

“I will do so,” Luke said softly. “How are you?”

“I'm fine.” Kylo picked at the bandages on his hand. Luke had brought them with him, handed them over without a word, waited for Kylo to see to his hand before starting any attempt at conversation.

‘I can understand you are anx-,” Luke began, but a sharp noise interrupted him - suddenly loud and grating, causing Kylo to jerk reflexively even as it faded away as quickly as it had arrived, leaving them in silence.

“That is only a transporter-”

“I know what it is!” Kylo snapped, skin crawling with shudders. Transporters left across the base towards the city daily, roughly two hours past noon, he’d been mentally noting their movements. Irritated by his reaction to such a predictable, daily event, he shot a glare at Luke, demanding, “Are you done here?”

“If you’d rather be left alone…” Luke let the sentence trail off. Kylo resisted the urge to scream, his mind revolving _yes-no-yes-no-yes-noyesno-_

“The weather is nice these days,” Luke said finally, with what sounded like a sigh,”You should consider coming out instead of spending your days cooped up in this room.”

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” Luke gave him a blank look.

“Don’t act as if it weren’t easier on you all if I stay here,” Kylo spat, “Out of mind, out of sight, practically non-existant… and don’t bother with that fake sympathy.”

“You think it’s fake?” Luke asked, visibly surprised. That was new. Kylo merely continued to glare at him, then turned pointedly to face the draped window. Luke was silent, maybe expecting an answer, but when none came he stood, and left.

 

-

 

He crept out at night when everyone was asleep. The moon was a thin sliver, and in the dark vastness above the stars flickered and shone brightly. The air was cool but welcoming, fresh, and after days spent in his room, stagnating, Kylo almost felt rejuvenated as he breathed it in. Silence surrounded him, the compound was dead at night, and it suited him well. He didn’t need company, he needed peace, and he found it for a moment as he gazed up at the pinpricks of light above him.

For what it was worth, Kylo had enjoyed being in space. There was something to be said about the vastness of it, the dark of it speckled with multitudes of stars and planets. Everything seemed to find a place, out there beyond the reaches of mortal manipulation. Everything seemed to work just right. The sheer magnitude of the galaxy was something glorious indeed, and being surrounded by it daily had been something he’d seen as a blessing. The Force was different out there as well, it seemed. More difficult to grasp at, to feel out, but at the same time much more real and organic. It had been good, that feeling that came when he had tamed it, as minor as it was.

The sound of footsteps reached him, breaking into his peaceful retreat, and for a split second he reached out with his senses to read who it was - then stopped himself, tensing warily. The manacles didn't react, he'd caught himself in time.

“Was this really necessary?” He said instead, recognizing the soft tread that neared him.

“I’m not here to keep an eye on you,” Rey responded. She came to stand a bit to the side and slightly behind him, “I came to see if you're all right.”

He half turned then, eyeing her suspiciously out of the corner of his eye.

“You haven't left your room in days,” Rey continued. “Leia and Han are worried about you.”

“It's a little late for worry…” he responded bitterly. Where was that worry when he actually needed it? When it actually would’ve done any good? His memories were dark, and he pushed them away before they could fully form. A feeling reached him, an urge that wasn’t his own - he turned his head further towards Rey.

“You want to ask me something?” Kylo asked; he allowed himself to reach out his senses, just a tad, just to get a grasp on the situation. The panic danced tentatively on the edges of his mind but he managed to fight against it.

“I suppose....” Rey began, eyeing him curiously for a moment before continuing, “I suppose… I wanted to ask about...about those…”

She nodded her head in the vague direction of his arms. Her avoidance of using the word was slightly surprising to him, and encouraging n a way. It didn't feel cautious either, rather considerate, and though he was loathe to be on the receiving end of _pity_ most days he was too tired right then to be contrary. Did she really need to know anything, however? Did she, didn’t she… he didn’t have the energy to debate that with himself. Wearily, he pulled up one of his sleeves to reveal the manacle on it and held it up for her to see.

“These?”

“Yes,” Rey’s gaze focused on the manacle, then turned to him, “What do they do? I mean, how do they work?”

“You don't know?” Kylo was surprised by that. He'd just assumed that she would’ve known, and it hadn’t occurred to him that she had no idea how they functioned.

“Do they...cut you off from the Force somehow?” Rey asked haltingly.

“They really didn't tell you?” Kylo said hollowly.

“No,” Rey answered, and he could feel she was irritated - but not with him. For a moment she looked away, seeming to think something over, and when she looked back at him it was with a decided look in her eyes, “Would you tell me?”

Would he? That was the question, really. He didn’t feel like it, and he hated being reminded of the manacles, of what they could do… but maybe he could tell her. He’d never told anyone, not really - everyone had either already known, or didn’t care. And, then it came to him that he did want to tell her, if only to see her reaction - he remembered how he’d wanted Luke to see how his actions had affected him before backing out of it. Luke was callous towards him, at best - but Rey seemed less so. Maybe he could get a reaction out of her, Kylo thought in grim amusement. Maybe it would be worth the effort.

“They have sensors that detect when midi-chlorians become active when in touch with the Force,” He explained somewhat curtly; as expected, speaking about it was not easy, “And when that activity reaches a certain threshold, they release an electric shock as a deterrent.”

“An electric shock…” She looked uneasy at the thought. At the very edge of the senses he’d allowed himself to extend he could feel her mind racing with thoughts.

“Yes,” Kylo very nearly sighed, surprised to find himself already weary of explaining. “A bit like those electric fences bordering the compound.”

Rey’s gaze turned towards the distant fencing, then back to him. She looked extremely uneasy now, the working of her mind louder. He wondered if she had just not expected it, the fact that the manacles caused pain. It mattered little to him, now; he didn’t know what he’d expected of her reaction, but it was not the silent gaze, the grave discomfort that was apparent in her eyes.

“And the implant?” Her voice was quieter now, wary, as if she was fully aware she was treading on fickly ground. It was enough to set Kylo’s hackles raising; another regret to add to his already long list: allowing himself to speak about the damned manacles and opening the way to this - _was it a -_ conversation.

“The implant,” Kylo snapped, feeling the irritation within him rise exponentially, and he snapped, “Is much the same, only in my _brain_.”

His tone was harsh, almost as harsh as the loathing that accompanied his thoughts of the implant. By the maker, all he'd wanted was to look at the stars, in peace, by himself, and the universe couldn't grant him even that.

“So you can still feel the Force?” Rey asked, her voice and face full of a shocked disbelief, “You could still use it if you wanted to, still reach it, except for...That’s, that’s hor-”

She stopped mid-word, her eyes widening slightly. Kylo knew he was glaring at her, he knew it was what had stopped her, but he couldn’t stop. That _pity_ had edged into her tone, how he despised it. It made him feel small, that sort of pity. It made him feel worthless.

He spun around and headed back to the quarters. Rey actually called after him, but he refused to acknowledge it. His limbs shook and despite the spike of anger he was quickly losing energy, becoming listless. He made it back to his room - the light was on, it had been on ever since he’d broken the light in the refresher - and collapsed back into bed.

 

-

 

It was a wild idea. He didn’t consider the details of it, he refused to think on it any longer than the half-a-second during which it formed in his mind - _don’t ask questions until after you’ve done it_. He washed up in preparation, dressed in clothes that were clean and unrumpled, and waited impatiently for the general’s quarters to empty. Leia left early, heading off to meetings or inspections or whatever it was she did, but Han usually hung about later. Kylo had no idea what his father had found to keep himself busy on the compound, but Han kept no regular hours, leaving and returning it seemed whenever the fancy struck him.

Keeping track of their presence in the house wasn’t easy, Kylo felt he was toeing the line between too little Force use and just enough to set off the manacles. He was able to catch the barest ghost of a whisper, however, as they left - and once he guessed that Han was gone he left himself, heading out of the general’s quarters. The compound was large, and it would take him a while to find what he was looking for - especially considering that he had no idea of the layout of the place.

Hoping that Rey was correct when she’d said most people wouldn’t recognize him, he headed out openly through the streets of the compound, searching around for the mech shop. He’d left the quarters with quite a spring in his step, buoyed by something that might have been close to hope, though the farther he got the more unease crept up on him. He hadn’t been out, exposed, like this in a while, and it grated on his nerves. Unwilling to let himself be _constantly_ at the beck and call of his traitorous mind he persevered, pushing forward through the streets on his search.

It took him almost two hours of cautious wandering, but he found the shop finally. It was a large building, with doors both wide and tall enough to take in a small transport vessel, and the only building in its vicinity made of metal instead of concrete slabs. Peering inside the half-open main doors, Kylo could see the mech droids working on a large engine block. Human techs were nearby, inspecting what looked like half of an X-Wing’s wing set. Almost everyone seemed engrossed in what they were doing, and quickly Kylo slid through the opening and over to one the side of the room.

Carts with various tools were scattered about the area, and he made his way towards one, glancing over at the techs often to make sure he hadn’t been noticed. A droid wound its way towards him, and he turned away, waiting to see if it had noticed he was out of place - but with a metallic grumble it rolled past and towards one of the office areas at the side of the room. Moving quickly, he scanned the cart he’d approached and pick a variety of tools off of it, once again checking often that the human techs, at least, hadn’t noticed him. Then, arms full of tools, he slipped back outside and headed off.

Where to? He could return to the quarters, but if his father was there and caught him entering… Kylo was in no mood to be explaining what he was doing to the man. No, better someplace where he was much less likely to run into anyone… and he found it almost as soon as he left the shop. Turning the corner of the building, he was met with an open gate to a shoddily fenced-in area, beyond which lay heaps upon heaps of metal sheets, engine parts, and large sections of ships that had seen much better days. A salvage yard - his mind screamed that it was perfect. Most salvage yards, he’d learned once (so long ago) were rarely visited by the human techs unless specific parts were needed, only frequented by the mech droids on an as-needed basis. That suited his needs perfectly - droids could usually be heard as they approached, and with his Force senses subdued as they were he didn’t trust himself to feel the approach of any humans in time to do anything about it.

Giving a quick glance around, Kylo hurried through the open gate and headed for as distant a part of the yard as he could manage. Finding a small hollow made from the arrangement of a ship engine and various discarded metal plating and exhaust tubes, he set the tools down on the dusty ground and sat down in front of them, taking stock. He had a variety of wrenches and pliers and a couple screwdrivers, and some more advanced tools he couldn’t recall the names of. It didn’t matter, their names didn’t matter, just _what they could do_.

He pulled the sleeves of his shirt up and over the manacles, exposing them on both arms. The seam lines on them weren’t lined up perfectly - they couldn’t be, considering they needed to allow him some sort of movement. That also meant there were gaps in the seams, gaps he could take advantage of…

Selecting a flat headed screwdriver, he set the tip into one of the seams and twisted it. The metal gave a bit, shifting slightly, but then the screwdriver tip twisted right out of the seam and slid off the smooth curve of the manacle. Cursing under his breath, he tried again only to have the screwdriver skitter off once more. Tossing it aside, he selected a tool with a thinner tip and tried again, prying it into that gap on the manacle. He felt it catch somewhere inside, and with a small tremor of _maybe_ he pushed on it, attempting to pry the casing off of the manacle. It gritted, metal on metal, and then very suddenly a shock buzzed out of the manacle, making him wince and drop the tool he’d been holding. For a moment he tensed, expecting it to continue - _had he damaged it?_ \- but nothing more happened. The shock hadn’t been powerful - maybe he’d accidentally triggered it, caused it to malfunction a moment - and picking the tool back up he tried again. Once again, he pushed the tool into the gap, and began trying to pry that casing open. The shock came again, light enough for him to ignore now that he was expecting it, and he pushed the tool in further.

The second shock was much stronger, strong enough to cramp his fingers and send the pain straight into the depths of his wrist. He cursed loudly this time, over and over, until he could feel his hand again. Breath coming fast and heavy, nearly whimpering, he threw the tool from him with vicious force, and when that didn’t help he threw the next one he could reach, then the next. They clattered against spare parts and metal frames, and between that and his loud cursing it was no wonder he didn’t notice the droid earlier.

As it was, by the time he picked up on the questioning, concerned beeping the droid had already rolled within five feet of him. It hovered at the edge of one of the piles of scrap that hid him from the main trail in the yard, a round white ball with a dome shaped head and distinct orange detailing. He recognized it almost instantly, but it apparently didn’t recognize him. Beeping excitedly as it saw that he’d noticed it, the droid rolled forward cheerfully, none too quickly, and beeped out a series of questions - _what was he doing here? Alone? Was he a tech? Was he working on something? Could it help him somehow?_

“No, I don’t need your help!” Kylo said in a huff, rising to his feet. The droid let out a long beep, then a clatter of beeps, assuring him it was more than happy to assist with anything if he wanted it to. Kylo glowered down at it as it neared, its movements nearly _bubbly_ . He knew the droid too well, he’d captured it once during the war even (and had to reprimand the Stormtroopers on his shuttle afterwards as they all gathered round it, calling it _cute_ and asking hopefully _We don’t need to destroy it, right sir?_ ). Now the droid was in front of him, not recognizing him, and continuing it’s chorus of cheerful beeps as it rolled up next to him. It had to pivot its head far back to look up at him, its single focal eye peering up at him as it beeped inquisitively again, apparently puzzled by his silence.

Kylo could almost see the moment when the clueless droid realized who he was - its head gave a little wobble, and it shot back suddenly, the cheerful beeps replaced by a drawn out chorus of high-pitched beeps that threatened to pierce his ear drums.

“Shut up!” he screamed at it. It responded with another tirade of high-pitched beeps and plunging right into a pile of scrap that unceremoniously toppled onto it. Kylo glared in its direction, “That’s what happens to stupid droids that don’t mind their business!”

The droid let out another screeching beep, struggling to dislodge the mass of scrap it was covered in. Only part of its dome-shaped head was visible, and the single large lens peered out at Kylo almost helplessly. This wouldn’t do; if its glass-shattering screeching hadn’t attracted attention, then the fact that it was missing would. Kylo had no intention of meeting with its owner, and especially not there, in a scrap yard with a bunch of tools taken from the mech shop.

With glower firmly in place, he strode purposefully over to the trapped droid. It beeped again, another cacophony that threatened to give him a headache.

“Shut up, I said,” He growled. The droid responded by deploying one of its arms through a gap in the scrap pile and flickering the electric prod at the end of it.

“Oh yes, I’m very terrified of all 9 volts of that,” Kylo muttered, avoiding the arm as he began picking scrap pieces off of the droid. The droid in return beeped sullenly, something about how it was _so much more than 9 volts_ . Kylo ignored it, focused on taking apart the heap of metal without bringing more of it down on the both of them. After a few moments he’d managed to make a hole large enough for the droid to exit, and it did so in a hurry. Kylo tossed down the last pieces he held in his hands, wincing _only slightly_ as the rest of the pile shifted into the spot vacated by the droid, and turned back to what remained of the tools he had stolen. He could try to dismantle the manacles again, but if the previous tries were any indication, he’d end up shocking himself over and over again in order to do so. Whether it was an anti-tamper addition to the manacles, or merely a result of trying to manipulate the cover, he couldn’t be sure - but the second option was far worse than the second. What if he tried again, and only managed to damage a manacle in such a way that it wouldn’t be able to _turn off_? The thought bordered on terrifying. With a final, half-hearted glare at the scattered tools, he admitted defeat and turned to head out of the yard.

On the trail a few paces down, the little droid stood, almost as if waiting for him. Kylo frowned as he approached, unsure what to make of it. The droid remained silent, watching him walk up, head sliding far back again as it looked up at him. With little patience for odd droids, Kylo headed past it and towards the gate. A sudden flurry of beeps sounded behind him, and suddenly the droid was there, right next to him, matching his pace. It sounded again, a myriad of questions that Kylo had no interest in answering - _Do you live here now? Where are you going? What are you doing? What were you doing with the tools?_

Ignoring it, he headed out the gate and towards the direction he believed the general’s quarters to be in. The droid rolled along, beeping conversationally about… well, about things that Kylo didn’t care about, and therefore didn’t take much note of. He wouldn’t admit it, but it wasn’t half bad having something along with him, making noise. It was almost as if he weren’t alone. He eyed the droid critically, and as if it felt his gaze it pivoted and swiveled its head around so its large lens looked straight up at him.

“What do you want?” He snapped. The droid beeped cheerfully, it was going back to its master and since Kylo was headed in the same direction it had decided to go along with him.

“Along with me?” Kylo said with a low laugh, “Don’t you know who i am?”

The droid beeped out a sequence, _of course it knew_ , but the beeps were slightly uneasy. It’s one large lens remained on him, it was slightly disconcerting how it just stared, though after a moment it looked away and distanced itself from him a few paces. Kylo watched it go with an odd feeling, as if he was losing something, which was ridiculous. Leaving the droid to itself, he sped up and focused on getting back. It was getting on late in the afternoon and he would prefer to get in before Leia returned.

Beeps sounded suddenly, and despite himself he turned to look back. The little droid rocked in place, looking undecided, then let out a short beep sequence - _Thank you_ \- before spinning and shooting off into an intersecting road. Kylo watched it go in stunned silence, unaware of what to make of the entire situation. Droids were just odd by nature, being machines, but this one was very odd indeed. It was almost endearing.

And certainly less sarcastic than R2-D2, he thought.

Then he grimaced, and turned back around. _R2-_ no, he refused to think about that scrap bucket, but pushing away that thought only brought the failure of the day to the forefront of his thoughts. He couldn’t help but feel the weight of it on him, darkening his mind. He really wouldn’t be able to get free of the manacles… No, he refused to dwell on it now. He’d dwelt on it for so many days and nights and he was tired of the dark despair, so tired. Maybe later, if the sky was clear that night, he would go outside to see the stars again. Trying to cheer himself up, he promised himself he would. And maybe, this time, he wouldn’t be interrupted.

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weep, little lion man
> 
> You’re not as brave as you were at the start 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies that it took a while for this chapter to come out - I was distracted by life and by writing some kylux (who wouldn't be, eh?) but it's here now!
> 
> There's a bit of a plot push in this one - we're gonna get into the good meaty bits in the next chapter and the plot will really start moving along. 
> 
> Thanks again for all of the kudos and the reviews, I really appreciate it. 
> 
> Enjoy!

 

Kylo stood on the main bridge of the Finalizer. Command consoles ranged before him, crew members standing or sitting in front of them. They were odd however, almost see-through and ghostly, movements stilted and unnatural. Every few moments their features shifted to something quite unreal, something ghastly and unnatural - inside his mind was horribly disquieted but he found he could not react outwardly to the scene. Beyond the great windows at the front of the deck, Kylo could only see a field of dim red, fluctuating in saturation as he watched.

“This mission is crucial to the further success of the First Order.”

Hux was standing next to him, his voice smooth and commanding. Kylo turned to find him looking as he once had, clean cut and dressed sharply in his uniform - it was almost a shock to his senses. He couldn’t remember when Hux had lost that edge, sometime during the prison stay, or before. At the betrayal, perhaps.

“Do you understand, Ren?” Hux looked at him then, and though his face was perfectly poised Kylo knew that he was enjoying - had enjoyed - the moment. He enjoyed being the one to remind Kylo of his orders, to remind him that _he_ was the one being held accountable.

“Don’t forget what the Supreme Leader said,” Hux continued, but then something changed. Everything changed. The bridge became gilted in dark chrome, the figures of the crew members twisting in strange and horrible ways. The red roiled like a living being, coiling in through the windows in a mass of tendrils, splattering bloodstains on the floor and the walls and the ceiling as it reached towards him. Hux spoke on, but his voice wasn’t his own

_There will be no more mistakes_.

“Do you understand, Ren?” Hux repeated. His eyes had gone as red as the tendrils that were coiling about them both, and once more that low voice spoke, _There will be no more mistakes._

 -

Snapping awake, Kylo sat up with a start. The world was bright around him, there were sounds like… like wind among branches, a rustle of leaves. Blinking, head still reeling from the odd and strangely too-real dream, he took a deep breath (fresh air laced with the scent of citrus-sweet flowers) and looked around. He was in the garden, he remembered then - it had been raining, earlier, a heavy sort of rain that pattered slowly yet steadily through the leaves above, with grey clouds that dimmed the world to murky gray. He’d gone out in it, sat on the grass and let the warm water seep into him under that clouded sky. He’d appreciated the way nature had made the effort to match his mood, and this sudden change to sunny and pleasant was not appreciated. Wiping a hand across his eyes and trying to hold in a yawn, he sat up groggily. His clothes were wet, the grass around him was damp, and drops of water dripped onto him from the branches above head.

The dream had left him disquieted and somewhat on edge. He remembered that mission well, the first after Starkiller base was destroyed, the first after he'd returned from Snoke’s training. Snoke had had doubts about his dedication - Kylo still couldn't understand why. He'd done what had been asked of him, he'd even tried to recover the girl-Rey-the girl - it wasn't _his_ fault the Resistance had pierced through the defenses, if Hux’s troops had been better prepared Starkiller would not have been destroyed. It was _their_ training that was lacking, not his…

His head swam; he couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten. The hours melted into each other, he'd been losing time again. It was distressing, how quickly he'd fallen back into his prison mindset. Despite his surroundings, he was once again caught within the confines of a cell, trapped and limited. There might be gardens, and he might have the ability to roam the compound but it mattered little - between the implant and the manacles, there was no freedom.

“So this is where you’ve been.”

Kylo turned to find Leia approaching him from the path. He eyed her wearily as she approached him.

“You’re wet,” She said gently, her voice heavy with concern. She’d been trying to reach out to him more, searching him out whether he was in his room or out in some corner of the quarters.

“It was raining,” Kylo answered tonelessly. She looked at him, her eyes soft. He wanted her to stop - he didn’t want her to care. It would be so much easier if she didn’t. It would make much more sense, everything would make much more sense…

“How are you feeling?” She asked, words dripping with motherly concern. Kylo looked away.

“Adequate.”

She sighed wearily; he was as good at shutting her out as always, and it exasperated her as it always had as well. This stalemate of theirs seemed ages old - Kylo refused to give in, had promised himself long ago that he never would (Was it _himself_ he promised?)

“I wanted to ask if you felt like going out,” Leia asked. “The weather’s gotten nice now.”

Kylo frowned at the bright sun above.

“No.” He replied. Leaves and blades of grass had gotten stuck to his pants, and he began picking them off slowly, peeling them off the wet fabric and tossing them aside one by one.

“Han has been working on a project at the hangar,” Leia pressed on, trying to sound cheerful, “Maybe you could go see how it’s coming along?”

“If you want me to get out of your sight you should just say it instead of wasting time thinking up scenarios,” Kylo muttered, flinging a leaf away from himself angrily.

“Ben, that is not what I want,” Leia said, stepping closer to him. He shot a wary look her way, and she stopped. She looked very tired then, worn. “I just think it might do you well to get out a bit.”

“Fine.” He snapped, standing up in one, sharp smooth movement. He couldn’t take her anymore, her very presence grating on his nerves. Where had this concern been, before, where had it been, _then -_ “I can take the hint.”

Leia sighed as he stalked past her; for a moment it felt like she was going to reach out towards him, Kylo could feel it waft from her just a second. Then the moment passed, and he’d left her behind.

He fully intended on leaving just as he was, damp clothes and all, but he ended up changing in the end. The fabric was sticky, clinging to him uncomfortably. He didn’t know what had been in the rain but his skin had begun itching and he needed to take a shower and scrub himself down to get rid of the irritation. Dressing in cleaner clothes, he headed out of the quarters. He didn’t know where his mother was but he was thankful he didn’t run into her. He didn’t need her concerned look, her flimsy attempts at being motherly. He’d been fine without it for so long, he didn’t need it now.

The world outside the quarters hit him like a sledgehammer, its presence crowding too-tightly around him. He had a _space_ of a sort, inside, but out in the reality of the compound there was nothing that was his. His nightly excursions, when the world was muted and quiet, were far different from this exit into a bustling and active military facility. He’d been out before, he reminded himself, only a few days before - he’d done it, _he could do it_ . Pulling the sleeves of light jacket down even further nervously, he headed down the row of buildings, walking close to the walls and keeping his gaze low. People passed him, guards and workers, and he could feel each presence like muted static at the very edges of his peripheral senses. No one had recognized him before, and there was no reason to think it would be different this time - but his mind hissed that it could be, _it could be_ , they were all _enemies_ , _he_ was the enemy. Guilty party, guilty party, in a soldier’s hive.

He was fine, he was fine. He would be fine. No one would recognize him, no one would notice him - he hadn’t really been thinking of going to the hangar originally, he’d only wanted to get out to get away from his mother, but now with his breathing panicked and his mind whirling he couldn’t think of anywhere else to go. He wanted to go back, but Leia didn’t want him, she wanted him gone and away, he _couldn’t_ go back.

He had absolutely no idea where the hangar was. His mind was beginning to stutter in horrible staccato around the idea that he was surrounded by enemies, he was in the enemy base, was he lost? - he could be lost - among enemies. Desperately, he reached out slightly with the Force, no longer caring if the shock came, he had to find his way somehow, he had to find some way out of the mess that was crashing into him. His senses glimmered stronger, he didn’t know the limit the manacles were set to anymore - had they changed it from before? - and though the thought of pain scared him the thought of being lost among an enemy base was worse.

Frantically, he cast out with his his senses, searching for the familiar glimmer that would lead him to his father. He pushed his hands into the pockets of his jacket, pressed them desperately against his body to try to keep them from shaking.

Maybe the limits were raised, Kylo was certain he was using more of the Force than what had usually produced the shock before. Rather than being a relief, it only dismayed him all the more. He had no reference now, no way of knowing how far he could go before the pain came. Terrified of that looming unknown, he pulled back his senses. He still had no idea where his father was, and now he was panicked and shaking, his hands clenched too tight in his pockets. He wanted to go back - his mother didn’t want him - he _wanted to go back but she didn’t want him_ \- his head was swimming, it was beginning to merge two vastly different moments in time, he was starting to lose his grip on what was real. He staggered towards a building, ducking around a corner and backing up against the wall. Closing his eyes he tried to control his breathing - breathe in, hold for ten, breathe out, and repeat, and repeat - he had to get himself under control, to stop the frenzied pulse of his blood and the swirling of his thoughts.

For some horrid, unknown reason his dream returned in vivid clarity, the bridge on the Finalizer coalescing around him as if it were coming into being right there and then. Was he hallucinating? No, no no no, he couldn’t let that happen - red tendrils were seeping towards him but he denied them, denied the vision and reminded himself that he was on D’Qar, he was in the Resistance base - _the enemy?_ \- he would not let himself fall apart there.

His mind cleared agonizingly slow. He could feel every beat of his heart as it slowed in his chest, could feel it when his blood relaxed its feverish pounding. The vision was gone - his breath was somewhat steady again - his head wasn’t clear but it was no longer swimming.

It was dumb luck that he was standing where he was when the squadron of X-Wings flew overhead. His first instinct was to plaster himself tighter against the wall, heart once again pounding in his chest at the sound of enemy planes above. He couldn’t move for a moment, the shock flooding his system, but he watched the ships bank slightly, landing gear lowering as they dropped in the air. For a moment his tumultuous mind couldn’t make sense why that was important information - but then he realized they were _landing_. Which meant that there, ahead of him, were the landing pads. The hangar would have to be nearby.

He pushed away from the wall and hurried in near-frantic pace to where he had seen the X-Wings descending. Passing a final row of storage buildings he came upon the runway. Several landing pads bordered it on either side, and he skirted around one as he headed onwards past them. There was a low hill at this side of the compound, and several large doorways were hewn into its side. There was no single hangar - or rather, no single entrance into the hangar (hangars?) and Kylo eyed the several doorways anxiously. Would he need to use the Force? Possibly, he was loathe to try and ask any of the pilots or technicians for help. His steps faltered as he neared the hillside eyeing the openings anxiously - and then he saw it. The last hangar door, the furthest down the line, stood open, and beyond it, partially illuminated by overhead lighting, sat the familiar bulk of the Millenium Falcon.

Picking up speed again, shooting a glance around to confirm no one had noticed him or was nearing, Kylo headed for the last hangar bay. A wave of nostalgia hit him as he walked inside, the bulk of the familiar vessel before him. Han used to take him along on his trips occasionally, before they sent him away. And sometimes after that, too. Trips to various planets, to seedy watering holes and cities that were practically scrap heaps. Kylo hadn’t known back then what his father had been doing, but it hadn’t mattered. There was a time when the Falcon was more like home than any place else, where being planetside was so foreign that it made him feel sick. There was a time when he’d felt the Falcon was _his_.

That wasn’t true anymore, however. His paced slowed as he neared the ship, eyes raising wistfully as he walked up underneath. When Rey had come to battle, she’d come on the Falcon - _she’d_ piloted it through the fighting and down to the surface. HIs memories were tainted by that thought, the childish, naive idea that the Falcon was his tarnished in hindsight. The Falcon would never he his again - and suddenly he hated being there, next to the hunk of metal that had so defined his childhood. Sentiment never got him anywhere.

“Ben?” Han’s voice reached him from somewhere ahead of him. Hesitantly, Kylo moved further inside, shooting a glance over his shoulder to confirm that no one had followed him. Han had a hatch on the underside of the Falcon open and a nest of tangled wiring was hanging from it. A tool cart stood next to him, tools and dirty rags scattered across the top.

“What’re you doing out here?” Han asked, gruff voice smoothed by his amiable tone.

“I can leave if I’m bothering you,” Kylo responded before really thinking, the words reactive. Han arched an eyebrow as he shot him a look, then motioned him over.

“Come here and give me a hand,” Han said, pushing the mass of wires over to Kylo as he neared. “Get those sorted out while I fix the couplers.”

Somewhat relieved to have something to focus on, Kylo set to untangling the wires. The repetitive task gave him some respite from the rushing thoughts in his head, slowing their furtive dancing and allowing him to draw his attention away from them and the low-key panic that was hovering around the edges of his mind.

“You find your way here okay?” Han asked conversationally.

“Yes.” Kylo tugged at a particularly stubborn knot.

“That’s good,” Han said, though he didn’t sound convinced. He picked up a screwdriver from the tool cart and reached up into the open hatch. “You eat anything today?”

“No.” Kylo responded distractedly, picking the knot apart slowly.

“Well that isn’t good,” Han said, “You need to eat more, you need to get out more. You barely leave that room…”

He felt like a child being admonished.What would be the point, Kylo thought morosely. Like right then - what had been the point of going out? All he’d gotten was a panic attack and a handful of wires. At least the wires were cooperating - slipping apart easily as he pried the knots apart. Why was this all knotted in the first place? Maybe some mech droid had done a bad job at the wiring, or some tech couldn’t care enough to do it properly. Kylo wasn’t surprised that Han was working to fix it - he might be the type to go for the cheapest repair, but even so it should be done _right_.

A figure was approaching. Kylo noticed them from the edges of his vision. His hackles raised as the person neared, his body going tense when he recognized them.

“Here’s the parts you needed, Han,” The trai- no, what did they call him? _Finn_ \- said. He stood there eyeing Kylo with open distrust, dark eyes narrowed. In his hands was a large box holding an assortment of items. Kylo only glanced at him shortly, turning back to the wires that were practically detangled by that point and trying to find something to busy himself with. Maybe on any other day he wouldn’t be so non-confrontational, but his already strained nerves were starting to ring again, still raw from his walk over.

“Thanks kid,” Han said, and motioned to the floor. “Set ‘em down over there and I’ll take a look in a minute.”

“Sure thing,” Finn said, placing the box down heavily. Kylo could still feel the man’s eyes on him, prickling his skin. “That all? Need anything else?

He spoke to Han amiably, they obviously knew each other well. Kylo chewed on that thought as he parted the final wires, shooting another glance at the man out of the corner of his eye.

“Nah, I’m good.” Han said, peering back up into the hatch. “Thanks.”

“Any time,” Finn responded. He shot Kylo another wary look before finally turning from them and walking back towards the doors.

Kylo didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath until he was gone, exhaling loudly once he did. Han looked over at him curiously, but Kylo avoided his gaze. His head was pounding, everything seemed very distant suddenly, clouded by an odd haze. Was he having another attack? He couldn’t be sure, everything was very different than usual.

“You okay?” Han asked, concerned.

“I’m fine!” Kylo snapped, then recoiled although his father hadn’t moved towards him. It felt like _something_ had. Deep red was tinging the edges of his vision, white noise was rising in his ears. Everything felt fuzzy and distant. Once again, the ghosts of tendrils stretched from those red edges, walls and floors became superimposed on the ones he could actually see. It wasn’t the Finalizer’s bridge this time, but something far different. The geometry of the place seemed unnatural, it seemed to shudder and roll in his sight. For some reason he was suddenly thinking of Hux, of Phasma, of ships and planets he couldn’t recognize. A swath of starry sky washed over everything, suns burst into view violently, then faded in double-time. The static in his ears rose until the ache became sharply painful, he could feel his heartbeat pulsing through his body -

\- and through it all it came a touch terribly familiar, frighteningly _real_ -

_There you are…_

The words were so quiet, the tone so low, they might’ve been nothing more than a rumble, a shudder - except he recognized that voice, the cadence and the inflection. He recognized it all too well...

“Ben!’

Kylo blinked, jolted back to himself and clarity in one swift moment. Han was in front of him, his hands on Kylo’s shoulders, looking at him with obvious concern.

“What happened? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I’m fine.” Kylo tore himself out of his father’s grasp, his skin suddenly cold and crawling with strange sensation. The white noise echoed in his ears, the words - _there you are_ \- echoed in his mind. He was reeling, physically and mentally, his breath coming far too fast to catch. “I’m fine!”

His mind was screaming DANGER, everything around him was all _wrong_ \- somehow every sound was amplified, every light stronger, every shadow deeper.

“Okay, it’s okay,” Han had raised his hands slightly, leaving them out and open, managed to look non-threatening. “Slow, deep breaths.”

Kylo really tried, but his lungs weren’t listening. His pulse was just one loud roar in his ears.

‘Do you want to sit down?” Han asked, stepping closer.  
“No!”  
“All right,” Han lowered his hands slightly.

“I… I need to go,” Kylo choked out, forcing his breath to slow finally. He staggered a few steps away.

“I’ll come with you,” Han said, following after him.

“I don’t need your help!” Kylo snapped, his voice tinged with desperation. He could make it back, he could make it back, the way wasn’t that far, he wouldn’t be exposed for long…

“Come on,” Han stepped up beside him, and despite Kylo’s harsh words he was horribly relieved that his father was with him.

The trip back to the general’s quarters was one big blur. Somehow, he managed to get his heart to stop pounding along the way, somehow his breathing had returned to near normal by the time they were there, but he couldn’t remember a step of it. Han accompanied him in silence, his presence grounding and comforting once Kylo had returned, mentally, to the world. The quarters were before them, and Kylo could see Leia standing outside of the front door.

Would she ask what had happened? Would she be worried? What would he say if she asked? Would he tell her? His mind swam - he just might if she asked right then. He didn’t have much in the way of defense at that moment, and those words were still reverbing in his mind, he needed _something_ to drown them out - if she asked he just might not be able to hold it in - if she asked -

But then she _laughed_ \- it was with a shock that he realized she wasn’t alone. The other person wore a flight jacket, a flight helmet tucked under his arm. Kylo recognized the man’s face when he saw it, the _pilot_ \- his fists clenched at his sides. They spoke comfortably with each, other, Leia’s laugh was light and _real_ , they seemed so at ease. It made him uneasy, something like raw - it made him -

A flurry of beeps drew his attention. The familiar ball-shaped droid rolled out from behind the pilot’s legs, peering over at Han and Kylo as they approached, and Leia and the pilot looked over at them. Leia looked pleasantly surprised, turning to greet them. The pilot’s grin faded somewhat, grew wary. Kylo drew glanced away hurriedly, he didn’t want to see them.

“Leia, Poe,” Han greeted the two as they walked up. Kylo stepped around without a word, ignoring everyone and heading straight for the door. The damned droid began beeping again, rolling after him for a few paces - _was it actually trying to talk to him? Right then?_

Slamming the door behind him, Kylo stalked through the quarters and back to his room. All he could see was the way Leia had looked when talking with _that pilot_ \- relaxed, and cheerful, not fake. He paced throughout his room like a caged animal, he was shaking again, it was all getting to be far too much again. He clasped his hands to his head, squeezing them over his ears, but between the dream and the attacks and _the way his mother looked at that pilot_ he couldn’t get his head to stop spinning. The static was returning, the rush of blood in his ears loud and aching. He just wanted it to stop, he just wanted it all to _stop_ -

_There you are_

No! He didn’t want to hear the words - he dropped to his knees with a sob - he didn’t want to think of how he was among enemies, he didn’t want to see the distrust in the eyes of everyone he met, the weariness in the eyes of his parents. He just wanted it all to stop…

Breath coming fast, so tired and yet so wound up, he found himself unable to stop his thoughts from ranging wildly and feverishly. The dream - the way it returned to him so vividly, the voice he’d heard, his own personal emotions, all of it was roiling inside of him, threatening to tear him apart. He could feel the fit coming on - if he could only calm himself down maybe he could keep from losing his control - but it was useless. He’d gotten so used to giving in to the urges that he no longer knew how to stop them. There was only one thing he could do now, only one way he can keep from falling out of what little control he still had left.

Desperately, he cast out with his senses, grasping at the Force. Anything would make the manacles activate, any usage of the Force, but he needed it to act soon. Casting about, he took hold of the bed, the chairs, anything that was loose, and with effort pulled it all towards him using the Force. The manacles at this wrists sparked to life, he cried out in pain as the shock assaulted him. It still wasn’t enough, even the pain of the shocks didn’t clear his head from the whirling thoughts and emotions. He drew further on the Force, objects sliding harshly across the floor to him - he could feel the pain starting at the front of his head, pulsing steadily stronger as he continued drawing on the Force.

Only a bit more, he told himself, only a bit more, and he’d have peace...


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for how long you had to wait. I was caught up in writing Shadows and Stained Glass and it burned me out (piece of advice: don't try to write a 25k story in a week without being mentally prepared for it).
> 
> There's some movement forward in this chapter. The next one gets the ball rolling again and puts the plot into motion. After outlining and such, it seems the story will cap at 16 chapters. That's a nice number, don't you think?
> 
> If you feel like it, you can find me at itsdetachable.tumblr.com Anything related to this story is tagged "a little unsteady fic"
> 
> Thank you for reading!

Everything seemed softer, somewhat gentler. There were noises beyond the curtain that separated him from the world, beeps and clatters and the hum of droids moving about. His mind thought he should be worried about it, but he couldn’t find it in him to do so. Everything was very soft. Curled under the light covers, cocooned in the embrace of sedatives, he found very little to be concerned about. It wasn’t that his mind didn’t try - it was valiant in its efforts to disquiet him, reminding him where he was, how he was among  _ enemies _ , how  _ dangerous _ it could be, how very helpless he was in his current state - but it was all a low-level murmur, hovering just barely above the subconscious. He pushed it away easily.

The voices were a bit more difficult to ignore. Though they spoke quietly, he could still hear every word as it drifted its way past the haze and into his attention.

“To be honest, we don’t have much information on these sorts of things here on base. Our files are mainly focused on physical injuries, we haven’t seen many cases of mental ones.”

He couldn’t recognize the first voice. It sounded somewhat low and somewhat soft and very unfamiliar.

“But what about the tests, the abnormal brain readings?”

His mother - Leia - Mother - his mind staccatoed fitfully over the descriptor. He sighed irritably and curled in on himself deeper. The voices still reached him.

“Not abnormal, General, no - I don’t believe that sort of description is accurate in this case. The readings are merely… different from standard. They are  _ not _ abnormal, especially not for someone in his condition…”

“And we don’t know what to do about it?”

“We do, somewhat. We’ve dealt with cases of shell shock before, and this is something similar. We’ve never dealt with cases quite this strong, however. I’ve requested files from the medical college on Coruscant to be sent over so we can handle the matter more appropriately.”

“Very well… notify me when they arrive.”

“Of course, General.”

Footsteps; someone leaving, someone coming closer. The steps echoed but it was in his mind and not in the real world. Everything seemed to echo in his mind, it had become so empty in the wake of medicinal sedation.

The curtain before his eyes shifted aside. Everything was sharp glow and stiff light behind it, the figure passing through it backlit like an eclipsing sun and moon. The curtain was drawn closed again, and the figure reformed into his mother, no blazing halo nor heavenly body in sight. She noticed him watching her and smiled at him softly. Her eyes were disquieted. Seating herself on the chair next to his bed, she reached out to lay her hand on his head. He sighed in something like content under the warmth of her touch.

“How’re you feeling, honey?” She asked gently. He grunted in vague answer; he thought he might be annoyed that there had been a discussion on his topic that didn’t include him, but he preferred dissonance. If he could feel he wasn’t part of the world then maybe nothing would affect him. Maybe nothing could reach him. Pulling back his mind, he made everything go soft and distant again. For a long moment it is just that, the world a distant blur, only his mother’s gentle touch reaching him through the cloud.

“Oh Ben,” Leia said suddenly, voice breaking. Her voice pulled him out of the haze he was growing so comfortable in. He wanted to look at her, but his eyes had closed and he couldn’t find the energy to open them again. She continued, in an almost whisper, as she stroked his hair, “Why didn’t I realize… why didn’t I try harder…”

Her voice was pained, he realized. He’d wanted to hear that pain in her voice, once. Once he might’ve enjoyed it. He didn’t know if he did, right then.

“I’m so sorry, honey,” She breathed, “It seems I’m messing up all over again…”

Part of him wanted to tell her she was wrong. Part of him wanted to make her see she was right. He breathed deeply, no energy to speak or move left in him, and felt her lean down and kiss his temple. She stroked his hair and began to hum a melody he hadn’t heard in so, so long, and he let himself fall back in the soft embrace of unconsciousness.

 

-

 

At first Kylo had been suspicious of the pills the doctor had given him. For all he knew, she could have been trying to make him complacent and weak-willed through the use of some medicinal cocktail. He’d protested at the beginning, if not violently then at least angrily, until he’d driven himself into another fit. They’d been able to bring him back from the edge before he’d done himself any harm, and he’d finally realized just how helpful the medication could be. He could keep from breaking down completely, he could keep his head something like level with their help. Even if all they did was take the edge off, that would be enough. That would be more than enough.

So, somewhat reluctantly, he’d agreed to the regimen they put forth; two pills a day, one they called a ‘mood stabilizer’ for the morning and a sleeping aid for the night. The doctor had included an anti-anxiety med, though she’d cautioned him to only use in cases of extreme anxiety.

“What do you mean by  _ extreme _ anxiety?” Kylo had ventured to ask, the first explanation he’d asked for since she’d began explaining.

“Well, for example, if you’re so overwhelmed by things you feel you can’t handle leaving your room, or even your bed. Or if your mind is so hyperactive, so hyper aware, that you’re unable to keep your thoughts from whirling through your head...” She paused then, seeing the darkly amused look on his face, and after a moment of thought amended her explanation to a simple, “How about, if you feel so bad you can’t breathe, and your mind is so overwhelmed you’re considering using the manacles to shock yourself again? That’s when.”

 

 

By the end of the second week Kylo was cautiously optimistic - he could sleep his nights through, at the very least. Dreams still came, strange dreams of dusty caverns and valleys like gashes cut among mountain ranges; rooms full of strange figures chanting in an unknown language; lights - just  _ lights _ , all sorts and all colors, that hovered above him in odd configurations. He was used to strange dreams, however; being attuned to the Force had brought them to him for as long as he could remember, his nightmares so very often not his own. He couldn’t imagine where these new images came from, but he did not worry over them as he might have. The terrifying dream of the Finalizer, and the chilling voice that came with it, had not returned, and Kylo would face a million strange dreams of odd worlds and figures over reliving that terrible one again.

The voice had not returned, and slowly the terror of the dream faded away. As the days passed he convinced himself it was a product of his over-active, hyper aware mind, pulling out old memories and painting them through the warped lens of anxiety and paranoia. There was no need to worry about strange hallucinations, he told himself. He should be spending his time repairing what little was left of his mind, finding solace where he could.

In the semi-calm state that came to him gradually over the weeks on the medication, he was able to more rationally approach the things that stressed him and angered him rather than impulsively reacting. In some ways, this was a boon - he could spend time actually thinking, even meditating, for longer than a few minutes at a time. He was still wary to reach out to the Force as he meditated, but the calm he found was still better than any he’d found in… in years, possibly.

In other ways, however, it was disquieting. Being around his parents brought back old memories, of course, but now rather than falling into a pit of anxiety or getting angry almost right away, he was finding himself dwelling on them. The feelings would mill around in his head, and instead of finding an outlet for the emotions they brought back he began actually acknowledging them. 

He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing.

 

-

 

“You do like coming out here, don’t you?” Leia said as she settled herself down on the bench next to Kylo. He eyed her wearily, slouching out of his meditative pose.

“There’s usually no one here,” Kylo said pointedly, looking away. He was in the gardens again, this time seated on one of the stone benches set beneath a gorgeously flowering tree. It was familiar to him, gave him a sense of sadly-sweet nostalgia. The scent its flowers gave off was deep and heady, almost too much so, which was perfect for his purposes. He’d wanted something to drift on while he meditated in the morning, something that would help him detach from the world around him. It worked, most of the time. That morning, however, he’d woken with his last dream still fresh in his mind - the ship, his uncle’s hand around his much smaller one, his parents growing smaller in the ship’s windows....

The memory refused to leave him. It had swirled round and round in his head since he woke, gnawing at his nerves and scratching at his brain fitfully. He felt rubbed raw and twitchy from it, he had almost been tempted to take one of those anxiety pills but they were in his room and he hadn’t feel like going all the way back. 

He regretted it; he could’ve used the pill  _ now _ , he could feel his pulse pick up as his mother sat down next to him. Questions filled his head, words he’d never spoken over all the years but which now threatened to spill from his mouth. He clamped his lips shut instead, hoping to keep them inside where they belonged.

“I was wondering if you’d join me for lunch,” Leia asked softly, looking at him. 

Kylo fiddled with the edge of his sleeve. The offer was genuine, he thought he could feel that much. He wasn’t in the mood for food yet, he wasn’t even sure if he was hungry. He was tired, just as he had been every day for as long as he could now remember (even the sleep the medication provided couldn’t make a dent in that weariness) and after that morning he was much more interested in falling into his bed than suffering through awkward small talk over plates of food he’d barely touch.

He opened his mouth to reject the offer, maybe offer some inadequate yet convincing reason, but what tumbled out instead was, 

“Why did you send me away?”

He felt himself freeze, eyes widening and breath catching in his throat. He refused to look at his mother, focused instead on the grass before him and tried to imagine a world where he hadn’t said those words at that very moment.

Leia sighed, from the corner of his eye he saw her tilt her head towards him.

“Oh Ben…” Her voice trailed off. He wondered if he could leave now, before she could say more, but then she spoke and he was rooted to the spot.

“I thought that was what you needed.” Leia said softly, sadly. “You were getting stronger in the Force, and I thought it would do good if you lived with Luke while you learned, instead of just having lessons whenever he came over.”

Kylo took in her words, turned them over and pieced them apart in his head. That’s what they’d told him, back then, but it had sounded hollow, felt fake. He’d just be going to study, to learn, and yet they had been anxious to see him gone, hadn’t they? He’d felt their relief as he followed his uncle on board the ship, felt them relax for the first time in so long...

“Was it because of that council meeting?” He asked dully. “Because of what I did?”

He’d gotten angry, again. The  _ disrespect _ . And all around him, the stares, the shouts. He’d never forgotten the way so many had turned towards him with fear in their eyes...

“What? No!” Leia said. He turned slightly to look at her; she touched his arm, her eyes sad. “No, Ben… It wasn't a punishment.”

“Then… Then why didn't you visit…” The words were painful, scratching their way up his throat and out of his mouth. They hurt almost as much as the memories. He’d convinced himself over the years that he’d never cared at all but the truth was he had, and he still did, and it was so hard to keep them pushed away. “D-dad did but you… you barely ever…”

“I thought…” Leia’s voice caught, her fingers on his arm tightened just slightly, “You refused to talk over the holo communicator, and you were always so angry when I did visit. Luke said you’d be in a bad mood for days afterwards…”

She drew a breath.

“I thought you didn't want to see me. I thought it would be less disruptive if I limited my visits.” Leia said softly. "I thought it would be better that way..."

“I kept waiting for you to take me home," Kylo said, looking away finally. A breeze caught up the fragrance of the blossoms and swirled it around them. Tilting his head back, he looked up into the waves of wine red flowers above and breathed in deeply. "You never did."

 

  
-

 

Some days Kylo would work up the initiative to leave the quarters and go visit Han while he worked on the Millenium Falcon. It was so much easier to be around his father than anyone else; their conversations were short and factual, their interactions casual and amiable but never close. The most emotion Han showed was when he clapped Kylo on the back or shoulder and let his hand linger comfortingly. Kylo tried not to focus on the feelings that reached him then, a mix of relief and love and grief and regret. It made him think of how strange it was that his father would treat him so warmly after he’d killed - almost killed- him. It made him itch to get away. But even with those awkward moments, Kylo preferred being there in the familiar confines of the Falcon. Among the compound, it was the only place that registered anywhere near ‘safe’ in his mind.

By the end of the first month after his medical bay visit, he was at the Falcon almost daily. Without the nightmares stealing his sense of center, and with the help of the medication, he found the trek somewhat easier to make as time went on. Despite how hard he tried to convince himself, however, he still couldn't help but feel the skin-prickling sense of danger whenever he encountered groups of people. His mind still screamed ENEMY whenever someone unfamiliar appeared in his sights, and even keeping his gaze averted couldn’t help keep his internal alarms from sounding. Instead of risking the frayed nerves and headaches, he'd mapped himself a route that avoided the larger roads, skirting around busier areas of the base on the way to the hangars. It took longer, much longer - he was practically walking the perimeter of the compound - but he was no longer being triggered at every intersection or corner.

That day Han had given him the task of rewiring a circuit board in the cockpit console. There was a lot of wiring to replace within the ship, along with busted sensors and other mechanical issues that Kylo didn't get involved in. Despite Han’s tutelage when he was much, much younger, Kylo had never truly grasped the concepts of mechanical repairs and wiring and electronics. If he worked at it he could get it to work, as long as he focused on what he was doing, but most times he wasn’t even sure  _ what _ it was he was doing. After a couple of hours of work, Han had headed back to the quarters for a break and Kylo continued working by himself. He didn’t mind the solitude, and he found that even in the cramped cockpit he felt relaxed. The smell of it was familiar, the feel of it. The way the sparse light came in through the cockpit window and dotted the seats was familiar. Familiarity was good right then - he may have loathed it once but now it was all he had left.

He was busy, that day. There were plenty of wires to replace inside the console, many of them burned across their entire length. It reminded him of the state of the wires in the SoroSuub after the escape. There was less damage to the interior of the console but it looked very similar. Kylo still had no idea what had happened to the Falcon, why it was in such a state, but he hadn't yet worked up the nerve to ask.

Replacing wires was repetitive but he found it enjoyable in a way. His fingers still shook sometimes, and sometimes the wires slipped from his grasp and snaked away among the others so that he had to go digging around to find the right ones again, but it kept him busy. It kept his head engaged. It kept him from thinking too hard of where he was and who was around him. Most of the time at, least. Right then he was finding it difficult to focus, an odd feeling in the back of his mind. He'd been on edge ever since the talk with Leia, feeling like everything was just a few degrees shy of center. It had been days and he still felt the off-kilter tilt of it. He couldn't place the feeling; was it just his head? Was it something else? He couldn't figure it out - but it persisted, prickling his skin and making it difficult to focus on the wiring. For the first time since he'd started helping Han with the Falcon, he was actually getting  _ angry _ at the work. It was unsettling....

He was so engrossed in his work, and becoming rapidly more angry with it, that he didn't notice the footsteps in the corridor until they were right outside the door. Tucked in between the seats as he was, arm deep in the inner workings of the console, he couldn’t immediately look back to see who it was approaching. The thought that he’d left his back unguarded hit him like a ten ton weight, he was suddenly on high alert, his Force sense flitting fitfully out as he twisted in an attempt to face the doorway. He could feel someone there, but it was another heartbeat of seconds before he could push himself out of the cramped space and turn around.

The tr- Finn. Finn. He stood in the doorway, looking somewhat surprised and wary, and like he wanted to back away but didn’t because of the  _ principle _ of the thing. Kylo’s mind was on full alert from the sudden intrusion. He couldn’t help it, he glanced down at the other man’s hands - empty, did that mean anything? holsters existed - and then back up at his face - he looks unprepared, didn’t expect Kylo, he’s not panicking however not panicking not like  _ you _ -

“Uh, I was looking for Han,” Finn said, running a hand across his short-cropped curly hair, his eyes hovering around Kylo’s face but not meeting his gaze. That was fine, Kylo didn’t want to meet  _ his _ either. 

“He went back.” Kylo said shortly. The panic that had shocked so suddenly through him was receding in the face of what-might-not-be-a-threat, but the fact that it had rose so sharply unnerved him. It hadn’t happened in a while, he hadn’t expected it right then. 

“Oh, okay.” Finn nodded, “Sure, so… I’m gonna… I’m gonna go then…”

Kylo didn’t respond - was he supposed to? Finn still had that wary look. He might have been acting something like casual but Kylo could feel his tension even with his Force senses suppressed. Maybe that was what kept the panic tinting the edges of Kylo’s mind and tracing his skin with minute shudders, maybe that was what kept him reactive. The moment was tense, and growing tenser, it had lasted far too many seconds to be comfortable.

Finn turned to go finally, but suddenly he wasn’t alone at the door. Rey had stepped up next to him, and her sudden appearance set Kylo’s hackles raising again, his skin prickling again. Where had she come from? Why hadn’t he heard her? His mind whirled again, scattered with the shock of it. It wasn’t  _ her _ that did it, not her as a  _ person _ \- it was the realization he had no way out, that the one exit was blocked now by not one but  _ two _ people (possibly hostile, his mind tried to tell him). 

“Leia asked me to tell you it was dinner time already,” Rey said with an attempt at an amiable smile in Kylo’s direction. She was trying to be  _ nice, _ he told himself. She was not a danger to him. Finn was not a danger to him. He wasn’t in danger -

HIs brain refused to listen; he shuddered slightly, heart pacing faster as his breathing picked up. He couldn’t stop the reaction, couldn’t stop the way his hands had begun to shake. He leaned back against the console, gripped it with his hands to try to stop them and tried to  _ focus _ . 

_ No way out _

Rey was still looking at him like she was expecting a response, as if she couldn’t see, couldn’t feel, what was happening with him. His throat was suddenly dry.

“I’ll… I’ll be right there.” He rasped out, trying to keep his voice from shaking. Rey’s eyes narrowed slightly, concerned, and she took a step forward.

“We can go to-” She began, but suddenly Finn grabbed her arm. HIs eyes were on Kylo however, his gaze somewhat pensive, even as he pulled her back slightly.

“Actually, before that I wanted to ask you something,” Finn said, turning to Rey with a grin. 

“What is i-” Rey began, looking puzzled, but then Finn was pulling her back away from the door.

“I found something, I can’t figure out  _ what _ it’s for,” Finn said with a chuckle. The moment Rey turned to walk with him and her gaze had left him, however, his face grew serious and he shot a searching look at Kylo. For the first time their eyes met, and Finn gave one, solemn nod as he held Kylo’s gaze. Then he turned, bright grin spreading across his face again as he continued chatting with Rey as he led her back towards the airlock.

Kylo was still shaking, but the panic-tinge had died down somewhat. Finn’s look, his nod - as if they’d shared something personal - he couldn’t understand it. Or he did, at least a little. At the end of it, the man’s gaze hadn’t been wary - it had been sympathetic. The thought that he was so easily read by Finn left a bitter taste in his mouth. That thought that that  _ traitor _ was giving  _ him _ a pitying look rankled him. And yet… in the end, he was thankful for it. Sliding back down to the floor, wrapping his shaking arms around his legs and pressing his face against his knees as he tried to catch his breath, he was thankful for it.


End file.
